


Somewhere Only We Know

by NotWhoYouThink131



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, It just has a song as the title, It's Micah and Bill so I guess "Tw:Racism"?, M/M, Mild Smut, No this isn't a song fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Small Towns, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, but that comes later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 46,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWhoYouThink131/pseuds/NotWhoYouThink131
Summary: Blackwater Township High School have just welcomed the newest round of freshman, and they just hope they can keep them away from the Callander gang.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith, Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde, Javier Escuella/Bill Williamson, Karen Jones/Sean MacGuire, Kieran Duffy/Mary-Beth Gaskill
Comments: 26
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have to start a lot of stories like this recently, but hey, I write these stories on google docs, and for some reason the transfer from google docs to here makes my punctuation marks like quotations and question marks come out all glitchy, so sorry if it ends up looking like that, just try to read past it, there's nothing I can really do about it.   
> Other than that, hi, hope you enjoy!

Most kids in Blackwater Township have waited all year for this day, the last day of school before final exams. It’s 6:43 AM and a black convertible is in the front yard of a run-down mobile home. In the car is Javier- A junior- John- A sophomore- and Sean- A freshman. In the house is Bill, another junior, and Mary-Beth, his 8th-grade sister (Well, technically step-sister, but her mother married Bill’s dad over a decade ago, so it was safe to say the two were pretty much siblings.).

Javier drinks iced coffee from a plain white thermos and fiddles with the radio lazily as he waits for Bill to come outside, Sean and John yawning groggily in their respective seats. They don’t seem to be in a rush like they normally are about this time. Javier knows there’s plenty of time to meet Molly at the park and get to school before first period starts. He also knows it won’t be long until Mary-Beth leaves for the bus stop, and when she sees the boys waiting in the car, she’ll go wake up Bill. Sure enough, when Mary-Beth starts walking out the door, she sees the car and says, “Hang on!” before disappearing back inside. She runs down the hall and beats on Bill’s door, shocking the man awake. “Gotta get up,” Mary-Beth says. “Javier’s outside.”

“What? Why?” Bill blinks in confusion for a few seconds before groaning and sitting up.

“It’s almost 6:50,” Mary-Beth says.

“Seriously?” Bill groans, grabbing his phone off the table and scrolling through his notifications, seeing a few missed texts from Javier. “Shit.” He grumbles before getting off the bed. By the time Bill finally gets in the car, forcing John to the back seat so he can sit up front, it’s 7:09 and the group watches him in passive annoyance. “Sorry,” Bill says sheepishly once he’s got his seatbelt buckles.

“20 Minutes to get ready, are you kidding me?” John scoffs as Javier starts making his way to the park. “All you do in the morning is throw on clothes from the middle of your floor, how did that take you 20 minutes?”

“John, don’t start,” Javier says. There’s only 11 minutes to the starting bell now; he just hopes they can make it to the park with enough time to spare, or they’re gonna all be late. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel as he starts an acceleration along the wide stretch of country road, the sun peaking over the farmhouses and barns, sending an orange light across the landscape.

“You know,” Bill says, turning to John as if continuing the conversation, much to Javier’s annoyance. “I don’t even understand why school has to start so damn early! It’s stupid! We’d be on time if it started at a normal fuckin’ hour!”

“It starts so early ‘cause some scientist somewhere said teenage brains perform better during these hours,” John says, rolling his eyes. “Peak opportunity for the brain to absorb information or something like that.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Bill says. “My brain’s peak activity or whatever is like 5 o'clock or some shit. Seven in the morning is bullshit.” He faces forward again, huffing and grumbling to himself.

“Gotta have a brain to have peak brain hours,” Sean whispers to John and the two laugh.

“What’d you say?” Bill grunts, turning back around in his seat.

“Nothing, Bill,” John says. Javier pulls the car into the park, a small playground, and even smaller parking spaces, whipping into the spot. Next to them is a car that’s a dark shade of red with a chrome finish. Inside sits Molly, touching up her lipstick, a passive-aggressive look on her face as she looks towards the boys.

“You’re late,” She snaps, putting her make-up away in a huff and getting out of the car.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Javier says as he gets out. “Do you got my money?”

“You think I’d be standing here if I didn’t?” Molly scoffs and holds up a small bundle of dollar bills held together with a blue rubber band. “I added an extra $10 in there for you, but I don’t know if you deserve it now.” She says dryly.

“We don’t have time for your uppity shit,” Javier says. He pulls a packet of papers from his book bag and holds them out to her. “Just give me the money.”

Molly rolls her eyes and hands him the money, snatching the packet from him. She looks over it, makes sure every question is filled out in believable handwriting, and nods. “See you at lunch.” She says, quickly getting in her car. Javier hops back in the convertible and the cars all but race to school.

“Why can’t you guys do that stuff in the parking lot at school or something?” Bill asks. “Why are we always driving to the park to hand off this shit? Makes me feel like we’re doing a drug deal or something.”

“We don’t need Micah seeing all this shit,” Javier says. “The fewer people who see this, the better.”

“I don’t see why that middle schooler by your place does her homework anyway,” John says. “What’s that kid’s name?”

“Lenny,” Javier says. “And he does it because I sure as shit ain’t doing it.”

“Why can’t she do it herself?” Sean asks.

“Cause she thinks she’s too good for homework,” Bill says.

“She’s a bitch,” Sean says. “If we gotta do our own shit, she should too.”

“One day we just gotta take her money and -Shit!” Javier exclaims and slams his breaks as the truck in front of them blares its horn and cuts them off. Inside the truck is Micah, not a friend of the group, but somehow not an enemy either; they just seem to tolerate him. He sneers jokingly at the group as he pulls into his spot and hops out of the truck.

“You fucker, you almost hit me!” Javier growls as he pulls into his spot and everyone quickly gets out of the car.

“Well, watch where you’re going,” Micah says. A couple of his friends get out of the truck, freshman that Javier is unfamiliar with; Micah’s always got some henchmen hanging off his arms, different kids each time. Javier says there’s no point learning their names or bringing them into the gang if they’ll be gone in a week.

The gang consists of kids from each grade in high school. At the top are Mac and Davey Callander, who are seniors graduating later this week. After they leave, leadership will trickle down to Javier, Bill, and Arthur. Once they’re gone, it’ll be John and Micah, and finally Sean, the newest to the group. This plan, of course, depends on no one else joining the gang next year, which is always a possibility. Arthur and Javier have even discussed letting the girls join the gang once the Callander boys are gone so they have more numbers until they can get some more freshmen.

The group has been infamous within Blackwater Township Local Schools for years now. They were good kids at first, back when they were just a couple of kids running the playground, but the older they got, the more trouble they got into. Blackwater High has its own criminal underground run by this group and nothing gets done without their hands involved. Since the addition of Micah halfway through last year, however, everyone has had to keep their underground activity to a minimum since he has so many freshmen around at any given time. They were almost caught selling test answers earlier this year because of someone Micah brought around, and they want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

The bell rings and everyone in the parking lot makes a break for the front doors. There’s only 5 minutes for everyone to get in the building, get to their lockers, and get to class. It’s a race that’s common among this group, each one normally scrambling off in different directions. They stop in their tracks once they’re inside and the chimes signaling morning announcements start. Morning announcements were normally during second period, what was going on?

“Good morning, Blackwater Township High School,” Principal Milton says. “We’ll let you all get to class and start the pledge in just a moment, but before that, I need everyone who was involved in the Callander gang’s spray painting incident to come to the gymnasium, please.”

“Oh, now what?” Bill groans, throwing his hands in the air. Javier sees Arthur enter the school behind him, groaning and following the group as they make their way to the gym.

“So suspension just wasn’t good enough?” Arthur says when he looks at Javier. As everyone enters the gym, Principal Milton and Counselor Ross are standing by the door, directing everyone onto the bleaches as they check names off a checklist.

“This is gonna be bad,” Sean says. “They’re actually planning on tracking everyone down.”

The gang had a month-long “hiatus” (Principal Milton refused to call them suspensions, as it looked bad on the district) around spring break in March, only returning a few weeks ago. Things had gotten heated with Milton during an argument regarding prom, and Micah suggested they get back at the dictator by defacing the school. Everyone had been so mad that it seemed like a good idea at the time, and they took things a bit too far by spray painting the side of the school with their mascot- A cowboy, of all things- being crushed under a boot label “Milton”. It was a wonderful political cartoon painted by Arthur and John, but looking back on it, better decisions could have been made. The whole gang was suspended, juniors and seniors losing their prom privileges and seniors losing their opportunity to walk across the stage at graduation. Davey Callander, the only member of the gang over 18, spent almost 2 weeks in jail before being released.

“Where’s the Callander boys?” Arthur asks. Javier and Bill both shrug and keep looking around as they find their seats.

“They’ve already been spoken to,” Counselor Ross says after overhearing them. “This meeting is for the rest of you.”

When everyone is accounted for, Milton stands at the front of the bleachers with his hands folded in front of him. “You’ve all made some changes to your behavior the past few weeks,” He starts. “I’m impressed.”

“Then why are we here?” Javier asks from the top bleachers, farthest away from Milton. Several kids mumble in agreement, but Milton’s expression quiets everyone.

“Well, if you would shut up, you’d know why,” Milton says, fists clenched at his sides. “I’m sure a lot of you know this already, but most of you have been… Difficult, since you’ve joined forces. Our district’s school board has taken notice of this.”

“Okay?” Bill says. “And?”

“And they are pushing forward an initiative to remedy this,” Milton says. “Now, the next one of you to interrupt me gets sent to ISS.” Silence. “Thank you. As I’m sure some of you have forgotten, our district requires 80 hours of community service in order to graduate.”

“Oh, here we go,” Arthur mumbles.

“Many of you,” Milton continues. “have zero.”

“Because community service is stupid,” Bill says. “We already have jobs.”

“Yes, jobs that pay you,” Milton says. “The point of community service is that you are not paid with money, but with the gratitude of helping people.”

“I’d rather have the money,” Javier says. A couple of people mumble in agreement.

“This summer, you will receive 60 of your  _ required _ hours.” Milton ignores them. “You will each take turns coming to school in groups and cleaning the building every day over the summer.”

“Yeah, no,” Bill says as the room nearly erupts in kids shouting at the principal. “I don’t think so. You see, I’m gonna have 2 jobs this summer. I have enough on my plate, I don’t need whatever this is right now.”

“Well, Mr. Williamson,” Ross says in an attempt to placate everyone. “We will try to accommodate your work schedule as best we can, but you will not worm your way out of this. None of you will. You must complete this community service project with all 60 hours logged by the end of the summer or some of you will lose some of your privileges.”

“Like what?” Bill scoffs. “What am I gonna lose?”

“The ability to buy a parking pass,” Milton says.

“I don’t drive,” Bill counters.

“Playing sports next year.”

“Wasn’t planning on it anyways.”

“The ability to leave early if you have all of your credits.” Milton snaps.

“Don’t want to,” Bill says.

“Hey, speak for yourself on that last one,” Javier says.

“If you want to keep going back and forth like this, Mr. Williamson, I will be glad to discuss this further with you and your father today after school,” Milton says. Bill is suddenly quiet, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything more. “Now, can I continue?” Silence. “Thank you,” Milton hums.

“I mean, it can’t be that hard,” Arthur chimes in. “Just show up, clean the school, and leave, right?”

“More or less,” Ross nods.

“You realize this ain’t teachin’ us nothin’, right?” Sean says. “All we’re learning from this is to be pissed off at you and not get caught next time.”

“Mr. McGuire, I’d advise you to watch your mouth,” Milton says.

“Or what?” Sean laughs. “You gonna send me on another ‘Hiatus’ the day before summer break? Fuck off.” Milton scowls as the gang begins laughing. Sean crosses his arms across his chest smugly, waiting for a retort, but doesn’t get one. He nods and says, “So what, we done here?”

“For now,” Milton says through clenched teeth. “You’ll get your assignments and schedule after final exams. Before then, I expect you to submit your usual work availability to me, so we can try to accommodate your other engagements.” He gestures to the door, and the kids scramble to leave, clamoring into the hallway.

“He’s kidding, right?” Karen asks.

“Aren’t you all glad we followed Micah’s plan?” Arthur sneers.

“ _ We _ ?” Bill scoffs. “I don’t see how this was a  _ we _ thing. You’re the one who painted it, I was just in the car, I don’t see why I’m in trouble.”

“I didn’t know we’d get in that much trouble,” Micah says.

“It’s literally vandalism,” Molly says. “You’re lucky Davey was the only one arrest-.”

“What a fuckin’ joke,” Sean overlaps. “Cleaning the school? Please.”

“And what was he talking about, most of us have no community service hours? Tilly says. “We didn’t get hours for cleaning the paint off the school?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about right now?” John scoffs.

“Yeah,” Tilly says. “That took us forever to get off, we should’ve been given credit for that.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have three fucking jobs this summer,” Bill shakes his head. “As if I don’t have enough to worry about.”

“And, I’m sorry,” Karen blurts. “They can’t actually take away our parking passes, can they?”

“No, they can,” Arthur nods. “They can take whatever they want from us. They took senior skip day and senior prank this year, next year they’ll probably take more from us.”

“Without a parking pass, how am I supposed to get to school?” Sean says. “You guys are my ride.”

“You’ll go back to riding the bus,” John says. “We all will.”

“Bullshit,” Javier says. “I’ll just park across the street at the church or something, I ain’t riding that bus ever again.”

“I don’t see what this is all supposed to teach us,” Tilly says.

“Nothing,” Bill says. “It ain’t about teaching us a lesson, it’s about making an example of us.”

“We’re just cash cows for Milton, anyways.” Arthur says. “He’s gonna make so much money off of our group this year. The Callander boys are lucky cause they get to just fuck off wherever they want now.”

“How’s he gonna make money?” John says. “You’d think he wouldn’t want to pay for the resources of dealing with us all the time, why do all this shit to keep us here?”

“Well, just think,” Arthur says. “He already doesn’t have to pay for janitors this summer, so there’s a bunch of money. We all work, so we’re probably not going to be able to keep up with the schedule they make for this dumb community service thing, which means we’ll lose all our shit and have to pay the school more money. Bus fees, lunch since we can’t leave early, shit like that.”

“One more year,” Javier says. “Then we’re nobody’s money makers.”

“Except those of us going to college,” Tilly pipes up.

“Yeah,” Bill chuckles. “But who’s actually doing that?”


	2. Chapter 2

Early August

_“Now go on, git.” John smacks the horse’s side and it begins galloping away. His wife looks back at him with tear-filled eyes as it runs; This is the last time he’ll ever see her, and he wishes he had said so much more than he had._   
_It’s time._   
_He stands in front of the closed barn doors. There’s no point running out the back, they’ll just catch him. Even if they didn’t catch him today, they’d catch him eventually. All he can do is listen as the lawmen surround the barn._   
_It’s time._   
_He listens carefully, bated breaths and restless shifting from the other side. John can’t help but wonder if they’d stay like this forever; if he never leaves the barn, will time just stop here?_   
_“We know you’re in there, Marston.” Ross’ voice is the trigger he’s been waiting on. He’s near the middle, on his right. Maybe the first or second person off to the side._   
_He opens the doors_

“And then you die, right?” Javier is reading over John’s shoulder, causing the man to jump. “That’s how all your stupid cowboy stories end, right?”  
“Get out of here,” John groans. He quickly puts his notebook away, taking his earbuds out and shoving them in his back pocket. “Why are you even reading over my shoulder anyways?”  
“Pearson told me to come get you,” Javier says. “Break’s been over for a few minutes.”  
“Oh,” John pouts more, putting the rest of his stuff away and making his way to the front of the grill line. “Trade, I guess,” John mutters to Pearson. “Before you sweat into the food or something.”  
“Don’t act pissy with me,” Pearson says. “You’re the one taking a 40-minute lunch break.”  
“Ten extra minutes won’t kill you,” John says. “It’s your restaurant, you should be up here anyways.”  
“It ain’t about him,” Abigail says from the waitress station on the other side of the counter. “You’re used to being late and taking your own sweet time on things, and it’s poor work ethic.”  
“So is knocking up your favorite waitress, but here we are.” Javier jokes, handing a plate of food to her.  
“Okay, for the record,” John says. “We don’t even know if she’s pregnant yet.”  
“John,” Tilly snorts, sending Abigail away as she rings up an order. “You don’t need a damn pregnancy test to know she’s pregnant, the girl is starting to show.”  
“Unless you’re calling your woman fat?” Javier feigns a gasp.  
“Hey, let’s not talk about this stuff on the clock,” Pearson says uncomfortably as he heads to the back room. “Please.”  
“Whatever,” John grunts, rolling his eyes and turning back to his station.

Across the street from the restaurant is an auto repair shop where Bill and Micah lean over the engine of a car with puzzled looks. Bill is holding a clipboard and Micah has a black smudge across his right cheek.  
“He said the engine was clogged?” Micah says. “Did he say with what?”  
“I don’t know,” Bill says. “I can’t even remember what all he said, just that the engine smells like gas and it won’t turn over. Last time he had it looked at, the guy said it was clogged with something sludgy.”  
“Sludgey?” Micah groans. “Perfect. That could mean anything.”  
“I don’t know what would turn to sludge inside the engine,” Bill says, turning back to the clipboard. “Unless he did something he wasn’t supposed to.”  
“Well then, let’s see if something’s clogged up under here,” Micah says as he jacks the car up and slides under it.  
“Now, hang on,” Bill says. “Maybe we shouldn’t just go poking things without figuring it out first,” He backs up a bit, bracing himself.  
“We’re repairmen, Bill,” Micah snorts. “It’s our job to poke around.” There’s a soft creak and a metallic snap from under the car. “Oh, it’s this!” Micah says. “This shit looks like jelly, that’s so weird-” He pulls something and the metallic snap repeats, thick clear liquid cascading from the bottom of the car and soaking him. Luckily, the liquid isn’t hot, but it smells foul, and Bill starts laughing as Micah groans and climbs out from under the car looking like a drowned cat. “Fuck!” Micah barks.  
“I tried to tell you to leave it alone,” Bill says, covering his nose.  
“Too bad just saying it don’t do shit for me,” Micah growls. “Go get me a towel or something.”  
Bill chuckles and brings Micah a towel before going back to the car. When he looks under the car he sees what Micah has pulled out; a shattered piece of an oil filter covered in a thick obsidian-colored gel. Bill sits down, crouching under the car, and starts trying to pull the filter out without getting himself soaked in the foul fluid “Good news first.” He says. “I think you just unclogged the engine, so thank you for that.”  
“And the bad news is that I smell like a sewer, ain’t it?” Micah growls.  
“There’s 3 hours till we close,” Bill says with a small nod. “You can make it that long. Pretty soon you won’t even smell it.”  
“Go fuck yourself,” Micah hisses, crossing his arms. “Why the hell does it even smell like that? Why doesn’t it smell like, I dunno, oil or gas or something that actually comes out of a car?”  
“Bet it’s just as flammable, though,” Bill says. “Wanna see?”  
“Hell no!” Micah snarls, jumping away from Bill as the man finally stands up. “You’ll kill me!”  
“That’s the goal,” Came a voice from the doorway. Bill and Micah turn to see Lenny, a kid starting his freshman year at Blackwater High this fall.  
“What are you doing here?” Bill says.  
“Mary-Beth wanted me to tell you to pick up dinner,” Lenny says.  
“Why didn’t you just text me?” Bill sighs and rubs the back of his neck, covering it in black grease. He looks at his hand and cringes, looking for a towel to wipe his neck with. When he finds one, he wipes his neck and grumbles to Micah “She never texts me.”  
“She tried to call you,” Lenny says. “Your phone’s off.”  
“What?” Bill grunts, wiping his hand before fishing around in his pocket and pulling out his phone only to find it won’t turn on after a few pushes of the power button. “Fuck, it’s dead.” He sighs again. “Fine, I’ll go get dinner, but tell her I’m just picking up pizza or something, cause I’m not making Javier go through a drive-thru for all that.”  
“Alright,” Lenny chuckles. He pats the doorframe and heads back to the library, at the other end of the block. Mary-Beth sits at the research desk, idly scribbling in a notebook. “He said he’s picking up pizza.” He reports.  
“Dang it,” Mary-Beth groans softly, puffing out her cheeks. “I’m sick of pizza.”  
“I can text Javier, have him make you something before they shut off the grills.”  
“No,” Mary-Beth says. “It’s fine. Thank you.”  
Lenny takes his place next to Mary-Beth at the desk and sighs. “I can’t believe we’re about to start high school.”  
Mary-Beth nods. “I’m so excited.”  
“Let’s just hope your brother and his friends don’t get us in trouble,” Lenny says. “If teachers find out we’re part of the gang…”  
“Oh, when teachers find out Bill and I are related, they’ll panic, they won’t even care about the rest of the gang,” Mary-Beth says. “But it’s okay, every school year’s been like that; I’m ready for it.”  
Lenny snorts and drums his fingers on the desk. He’s already been unofficially initiated into the gang, despite not even starting high school yet; he lives across the street from Javier and spent most of last year doing Molly’s homework for her. The older members like Bill and Arthur insist on giving him a real initiation, just like the Callander boys did with everyone else, but since Javier chose to vouch for him, he’s allowed to be involved in some of the gang’s workings until he’s initiated; Lenny says this makes him a Prospect of the gang. The girls count as Prospects too, since they’re being invited into the gang to keep numbers up.  
“Oh!” Mary-Beth gasps suddenly, leaning over to get a better view out the window across from the desk. “Look, that guy is back!” Lenny leans over with her and sees a young man leaning against Arthur’s car in the parking lot of the coffee shop.  
The coffee shop is nearly empty, just Arthur and Molly cleaning things up before the evening rush. “Arthur,” Molly looks out the window and snorts to herself as she starts wiping down the counter.  
“Molly,” Arthur says back, not looking up from the inventory list.  
“Your little friend is back,” Molly gestures outside, and Arthur’s heart skips a beat when he sees Charles leaning on his car. He curses quietly and hurriedly makes a vanilla coffee while Molly rings it up and discounts it under his name.  
“I’m taking a smoke break,” Arthur says.  
“Yeah I know, hurry up,” Molly snorts, rolling her eyes. “Don’t stay out there too long.”  
Arthur quickly runs outside, trying to level his breathing. “You know you can uh, come inside right?” He asks, smiling a bit at Charles.  
Charles shrugs. “Yeah,” He says, smiling as Arthur hands him the coffee. “But I like talking to you out here, away from your friend.” He takes a sip of the coffee and contemplates it for a moment before smiling. “She’s always watching us.”  
“I suppose that’s fair.” Arthur chuckles and lights his cigarette. “She is a bit nosy.”   
Charles started coming to the coffee shop about a year ago, when Arthur just finished his training. Before they started talking, Charles would just sit at a table near the counter and watch videos on his phone while he drank his coffee. The two started talking shortly after, and now Charles comes a couple times a week and sits in the parking lot, waiting for Arthur. Arthur makes him coffee and smokes a cigarette and the two talk until Molly tells Arthur to come back.  
Charles doesn’t go to school at Blackwater Township; he’s homeschooled within the makeshift Native reservation that rests on the edge of Blackwater Township, racistly named Little Shenandoah by the city council. Ever since Charles and Arthur met, though, Charles has been trying to convince his dad to let him enroll at Blackwater. His father used to shoot the idea down when it first came up, saying he wants to keep Charles safe, but Charles was able to convince his father to look into it a bit closer; this school offered more opportunities than the one on the reservation, better educational opportunities. He hasn’t told Arthur any of this yet, as it’s a surprise, but his father finally agreed to let him take his final year of high school at Blackwater. Conditions are involved, but they’re mere details in the excitement as Charles tries to figure out how to word the news.  
“So,” Charles says finally after a brief silence. “When do you go back to school?”  
“Next Tuesday,” Arthur says.  
“You excited?”  
“No?” Arthur snorts. “Who’s excited to go back to school?”  
“Me,” Charles says.  
“Why?” Arthur asks, snorting again. Charles suddenly starts smiling, trying to hide it behind another sip of coffee, and Arthur’s jaw drops. “Wait, no way. Your old man’s letting you transfer?”  
“He enrolled me a week or so ago,” Charles smiles. Arthur almost yelps with excitement, but holds it in, forcing himself to remain calm as Charles says, “He thinks it’s stupid, leaving and starting at a new school my final year, but I told him this would be a good change for me. Your school offers a lot more electives and more structured classes, and it’ll look better on college applications that I went to an actual school instead of some ‘homeschool’ situation with a GED.”  
“You’re going to love it,” Arthur says quickly. “Well, that’s a lie, you’re going to hate it, our principal is garbage and the teachers seem like mindless drones sometimes, but you’re going to love the others.”  
“Others? Like your friends?” Charles chuckles. “The redhead, or the racist mechanics down the street?”  
“How do you know those guys are my friends?”  
“I see them around here a lot.”  
“You probably see a bunch of my friends around here a lot,” Arthur says.  
“I do.” Charles hums. “Big group.”  
“Eh, it was bigger, but kids graduate each year, so,” Arthur shrugs. “We’re what’s left. Hoping we pick up some more freshmen before I go.”  
“Still a big group,” Charles says. “Closest to a ‘group’ I have at school is our chief’s son and one of his friends I don’t even talk to.” Charles snorts. “Your group is bigger by a mile.”  
“God, I wish that was us,” Arthur says. “Trying to hang out together is a nightmare.” He shrugs. “I mean, Molly’s dad lets us use his starter house as a clubhouse.”  
“Starter house?” Charles raises an eyebrow.  
“He brought a house when they first moved to America, but that’s been paid off and he’s got a new house now, so he gave us the smaller one. As long as we all chip in for bills, we get to use it.”  
“Hm. Which one’s Molly?”  
“Redhead,” Arthur gestures behind him.  
“Oh.”  
“Arthur, c’mon!” Molly leans out the door and shouts. “Starting to get a bit cramped in here.”  
“Well, um…” Arthur puts out his cigarette quickly and smooths out his apron. “Schedules should be emailed to us either tonight or tomorrow, I’ll text you when we get them. See if we have any classes together.”  
“Yeah,” Charles smiles. “See you later, Arthur.”  
Arthur heads back inside and leans against the counter, trying to steady his heart. Something about Charles always made his heart pound in his chest to the point he was dizzy; the news about the transfer didn’t help, though, that’s for sure. Once the initial disorientation wears off, Arthur returns to work with a big smile on his face.  
“What’s got you all bright and shiny now?” Molly giggles. “Have fun talking with your beau?”  
“He’s transferring.”  
“To Blackwater?”  
“Yep.”  
“Oh, just wait until he meets the others,” Molly laughs. “This is gonna be so fun.”

6:18 PM  
Lenny: That’s the guy right?  
Arthur: Yeah, that’s him.  
John: Wait, I missed Mysterious Coffee Guy again? Damnit  
Molly: Won’t miss him startin Tuesday  
Lenny: What’s Tuesday?  
Molly: He’s transferring.  
Mary-Beth: No way  
Lenny: Wait, he’s actually going to school with us now?  
Sean: So we’re finally gonna meet Mysterious Coffee Guy, hm?  
Tilly: We’re finally going to know his name.  
Sean: And he’s finally going to meet us.  
Javier: All of us.  
Arthur: May have gotten a bit ahead of myself. This is a bad idea. He shouldn’t meet any of you animals  
Micah: Don’t half of you have a restaurant to run?  
Arthur: And you got cars to fix.  
Micah: Bill’s doing it for me. I’m covered in engine gunk, so I’m sitting out.  
Sean: Bet you smell better now.  
Micah Bell has removed Sean MacGuire from the group  
Karen Jones has added Sean MacGuire to the group  
Sean: Who gave you the privilege to remove people, you bastard?  
Javier: When are schedules coming out?  
Arthur: Sometime after 8 I think.  
Javier: We’ll compare in a bit, then I guess.

10:09 PM  
Javier: Who all got their schedules so far? (Liked by 11 people)  
Bill: Please tell me someone else has Strauss first period? I need someone to keep me awake.  
Arthur: I do  
Sean: Ay, who the hell is Van Der Linde?  
Tilly: Ooo, is he a new teacher?  
Javier: It says he teaches English, but I thought Cornwall taught english? Did we get a new English teacher?  
Bill: I thought Cornwall got fired last year  
Karen: They’ll fire him, but they won’t fire O’Driscoll?  
Molly: Ew, that animal is still teaching?  
Mary-Beth: I have him for Psych.  
Bill: God I hate that guy. Skip his class MB, I’m serious.  
John: Hey, who has Matthews class 8th period? (Liked by 11 people)  
Tilly: We all got it? How did we all get in?  
Abigail: I think it’s required for graduation.  
John: Why? It’s theatre.  
Molly: Hardly.  
Karen: It’s Shakespeare Lit, Molly. Shakespeare was theatre.  
Molly: We’re not going to be performing plays or anything. Probably just reading his other works.  
Bill: Who the fuck actually reads Shakespeare in Blackwater? Folks round here are too busy fucking their sisters to read that shit.  
Javier: I’m hoping that’s a joke.  
Arthur: Of course it’s a damn joke. He’s saying Blackwater is too backwater to be reading big fancy shit like that.  
Molly: You know, there’s a hillbilly stereotype running rampant in this group, and it’s that reason exactly why my daddy doesn’t like you guys.  
Sean: It’s why my da moved here in the first place.  
Tilly: It’s hard to act like we ain’t a bunch of cowpokes when there’s more cornfields than people.  
Arthur: Welcome to Blackwater Township, where one half of us are “Cowpokes” and “Hillbillies” and the other half is Molly. (Liked by 10 people)

10:30 PM  
Arthur: You get your schedule yet?  
Charles: Yeah  
Arthur: What do you got?

Charles sends a picture of his schedule. Arthur compares it to his own and sighs softly. He knew he wouldn’t have all the same classes as Charles, but he definitely hoped for more than this.

Arthur: You want the good news or the bad news first?  
Charles: Good.  
Arthur: I’ve had most of these teachers before, so I can probably help you get through their classes.  
Charles: Bad?  
Arthur: I’m not in most of those classes, but I think some friends are.  
Charles: Why is that bad?  
Arthur: I can’t filter the absolute feral energy they emit.  
Charles: Oh?  
Arthur: God, I could scream.  
Charles: You’re being overdramatic. Everyone’s embarrassed by their friends when they introduce them to someone new. It’s a trope used in like 100 tv shows for a reason.  
Arthur: Yeah, but these guys are like the human version of Pandora’s Box. From the outside, they look so tempting and cool and you want to see what they’re like, and then when you’re here, they act like animals and you regret every decision that led to opening the box.  
Charles: Do you regret opening the box?  
Arthur: Idk, sometimes.  
Charles: That means you sometimes like them.  
Arthur: I usually do. But sometimes I fake being sick so I don’t have to hang out with them, they’re that bad.  
Charles: I mean, I do that.  
Arthur: Yeah?  
Charles. My friend thinks I have chronic migraines because I use that excuse so much.  
Arthur: Wow. Guess it can’t be that bad if you do it.  
Charles: It’s not like I’m some goody two shoes. I can be bad.  
Arthur: Okay. Sure you can ;)  
Charles: Shut up.

12:07 AM  
Charles: Shit, I meant to ask you. If I give you my address, can I get a ride on Tuesday? My dad said he would, but I doubt he’ll remember.  
Arthur: Course  
Charles: Why are you still up? I wasn’t expecting an answer until morning.  
Arthur: I still got a couple more days of summer, Charles, I’m staying up as late as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

When Tuesday finally rolls around, Arthur has no problem finding Charles’ house. There is a busted up green truck in the driveway that’s missing a wheel and a small garden full of vibrant purple and pink flowers near the porch. Arthur starts texting Charles to announce his arrival, but before he can send the text, the front door flies open and Charles is dragged out of his house towards the car by another young man about the same age as him. Charles meets Arthur’s eyes and sighs softly as he gets in the passenger seat, the other boy getting in the back.  
“Oh?” Arthur blinks and looks at the other boy, who just smiles innocently at him. “Hey, Charles-?”  
“I meant to text you the other day about him,” Charles winces. “The only condition my dad had when he enrolled me was that I had to bring Eagle Flies to the new school, too.”  
“Ah.” Arthur raises an eyebrow and turns to the boy- Eagle Flies- in the back seat. “This your brother or something?” He asks Charles.  
“Hell no,” Eagle Flies laughs, bouncing in the seat. “I’m just a friend of Charles’.”  
“This is my chief’s son,” Charles says. “He’s a year below us.”  
“Well, um, good morning.” Arthur snorts, handing Charles a cup of coffee from the cupholder. “Only got one, I didn’t know I was expecting someone else.”  
“Oh, no problem!” Eagle Flies smiles.  
“He doesn’t need any coffee,” Charles says at the same time. The two look at each other and Charles takes a drink of the coffee. It’s not as good as when Arthur makes it for him, but it’s still good.  
“Save as much of that as you can,” Arthur says as he backs out of the driveway. “Your first-period teacher, Strauss, is known to drone on a bit; everyone’s fallen asleep at least once in his class.” He nods towards the truck. “Who’s is that?”  
“Mine, if I can get it working,” Charles says. “Gotta get the front axle replaced and fix the steering column.”  
“I can have my boys look at it,” Arthur says. “They’re mechanics, remember?”  
“I can get it on my own,” Charles says, shaking his head. “We’re just trying to find the right pieces at the moment.”  
“Charles said you own a gang?” Eagle Flies blurts from the backseat, startling Arthur a bit.  
“I never said the word gang.” Charles elaborates, throwing a playful glare towards Eagle Flies. “I said a big group.”  
“You said big group and then implied there was enough of them to be a gang, so I call them a gang.” Eagle Flies says matter-of-factly.  
“I mean, I guess.” Arthur snorts. “It’s not really a gang and I don’t own anything. We're just a group of friends with a bad reputation and a taste for rebellion. That I am currently in charge of.”  
“That’s so cool!” Eagle Flies says. “Do you guys do illegal stuff?”  
“Eagle,” Charles scolds casually.  
“Does he just say anything that comes to his mind?” Arthur asks Charles softly, chuckling.  
“Usually,” Charles nods. “Kind of his thing.”  
“Oh, I cannot wait.” Arthur snorts. “Micah and Bill are gonna love this kid.”

Hosea has taught here a long time, and he knows every teacher who has taught in this district and what car they’ve had parked in the teacher lot for the last decade, at least. The red sports car was new, he was sure of it.  
“Bet it’s Cornwall’s replacement,” Grimshaw says as they smoke on the edge of the teacher lot, Grimshaw leaned against her car and Hosea seated in the grass. “Should we say hi?”  
“We’ll probably get a chance to say hello later.” Hosea hums, waving his hand dismissively. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s in the car anyway-”  
“Mind if I join you?” Hosea and Grimshaw turn to the man standing behind them, slightly jostled by the sudden approach. Hosea’s heart skips a beat as he sees how handsome the new teacher is. The man smiles and Hosea feels himself speak before he can think.  
“Sure.”  
The man chuckles. “Didn’t mean to scare anyone,” He lights a cigarette and leans against the tree behind him. “Dutch Van Der Linde.”  
“Susan Grimshaw,” Grimshaw smiles. “I teach home ec. And this is our theatre and drama teacher, Hosea-”  
“Matthews,” Hosea interjects, sneering playfully as Grimshaw. “I can introduce myself.”  
“Of course,” Grimshaw smirks. “I was just waiting for you to pick your jaw up off the ground.”  
“My jaw was not on the ground,” Hosea blusters, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I was just startled, that’s all.” He blows his smoke towards Grimshaw, who just snorts at him and waves him off. Hosea looks back up at Dutch, trying to keep his expression nonchalant. “Ignore her.”  
Dutch chuckles. “Of course.” It’s almost a purr and Hosea feels the hair on his arms rise. This man was almost like a siren, beckoning something in only a few words that Hosea didn’t want to consider.  
“First day teaching?” Grimshaw asks.  
“Just in this district,” Dutch says. “Taught in a town called Valentine past 4 years.”  
“I did my student teaching there,” Grimshaw chuckles. “Nice place, kids were so down-to-Earth.”  
“Too bad their parents act like animals at the slightest hint of progress,” Dutch says. “I proposed bringing some works by Evelyn Miller into the curriculum and the PTA proposed to the school board I be fired and blacklisted from the state.”  
Hosea and Grimshaw both visibly wince. “I wouldn’t bring that proposal to this school, Mr. Van Der Linde,” Hosea says. “The man you’ve replaced was let go after teaching the ideologies of Miller.”  
Dutch frowns. “Really? I thought Milton said this school was progressive.”  
“I can’t think of a reason he would say that,” Hosea says. “Milton believes the children in this school are trouble makers and giving them Miller’s teachings is asking for more rebellious kids.”  
“Teenagers are supposed to be rebellious,” Dutch says. “And it’s that rebellion that leads to activism, which leads to the bettering of our world.”  
“Milton begs to differ.” Hosea shrugs. “He thinks teenagers should be more mature and behave while they grow into adults.”  
“Which is bullshit,” Hosea audibly groans as everyone turns to Colm O’Driscoll, sitting inside his car and smoking. “Kids should be able to think however they want, and if that means they’re rebellious, then so be it.”  
“It’s so funny you take the side of the children on this, considering not a single one of them likes you.”  
“And you are?” Dutch asks as Colm steps out of his car.  
“Colm O’Driscoll,” Colm smiles, shaking Dutch’s outstretched hand. “I teach psychology.”  
“Dutch Van Der Linde.”  
“You must be the new English teacher.” Colm chuckles. “Milton will probably tell you Miller’s writing has no place in Blackwater High, but I know a lot of kids would benefit from his ideas. The Callander Gang, especially.”  
“Colm,” Hosea warns.  
“Who?” Dutch blinks.  
“Well, I guess it’s not the Callander Gang anymore,” Colm snorts to himself. “Don’t know what they’ll call themselves now that the Callander brothers graduated. ‘Bout a dozen kids that are a thorn in Milton’s side. I’ll be really surprised if you don’t have at least one in every class.”  
“Okay,” Dutch nods slowly. “Who’s in charge since the Callander brothers graduated?”  
“Williamson, Escuella, and Morgan,” Colm says. “Far as I know.”  
Dutch nods again as he sees, out of the corner of his eye, Hosea rise to his feet and walk towards the building, Grimshaw close behind him.

Arthur pulls into his parking space and finds the rest of the gang hanging out around Javier’s car and Micah’s truck.  
“There’s a lot of them,” Eagle Flies whispers to Charles. “You were right.”  
“There you are, Morgan!” Sean shouts as they all get out of the car. “Molly and Lenny already went to look for the new teacher.”  
“Okay?” Arthur snorts. “I don’t really care, Sean.”  
Charles feels everybody’s eyes on him and Eagle Flies when they get out of the car, and Charles looks at Arthur for help.  
“Everyone, this is Charles,” Arthur says, gesturing to Charles. “And this is Eagle Flies,” He gestures again. “Don’t worry, you guys will catch up. This is Sean, Karen, Tilly, Abigail, Javier, Bill, John, Mary-Beth and Micah. And apparently, there’s two more running around somewhere I’ll introduce you to soon.”  
“Hello!” Eagle Flies smiles, waving at everyone. No one responds, and he slowly stops waving, looking at Charles, who keeps his head low.  
“Micah, I thought you didn’t finish the community service project,” Arthur says, gesturing to Micah’s truck. “You still got a parking pass?”  
“No,” Javier snorts. “He’s using the one from last year.”  
“Micah.” Arthur rolls his eyes.  
“Milton ain’t gonna go up and down every aisle, checking each and every car making sure it ain’t one of ours,” Micah says. “It’ll be fine.”  
“I’m not giving you a ride when your car gets towed,” Arthur says, turning and heading inside. The others start following him, and Eagle Flies grabs onto Charles’ arm as they follow.  
“Are you excited?” He asks, and Charles nods. “There’s so many kids here!”  
“How big was your old school?” Mary-Beth turns and asks them.  
“Only about 20 kids.” Eagle Flies says.  
“In your grade?”  
“No, the whole school.” Eagle Flies says. “It’s just kids on the reservation.”  
“Oh, wow.” Mary-Beth giggles. “That’s about how big each class is, 20-30 kids.”  
Arthur turns to say something as he opens the door, but he can’t say anything before he realizes he nearly collided with Lenny, who was running out the door to find them. “Shit, kid,” Arthur snorts. “Be careful, will ya?”  
“Sorry,” Lenny says. “Wanted to tell you-”  
“The new teacher is outside right now,” Molly says from behind Lenny. “Talking to O’Driscoll.”  
“Are you serious?” Arthur groans.  
“It’s a shame,” Molly says. “He’s really cute.”  
“Who’s O’Driscoll?” Eagle Flies cocks his head.  
“He’s our psych teacher,” Arthur says. “He’s the worst.”  
“Why?” Charles asks.  
“He’s creepy,” Abigail says.  
“And rude,” Karen says.  
“And racist,” Javier says.  
“They get it, you guys,” Arthur chuckles. “And if the new teacher is out there talking to him, that guy must be bad news, too.”  
“Who has him first period?” Javier asks.  
“I do,” Lenny says. Mary-Beth raises her hand from the back of the group.  
“Then you guy will check him out first,” Arthur tells them. “See if anything seems off about him, find anything we need to be aware of.”  
“I have homeroom with him second period,” Javier says. “I can take a look at him too, find out more about him.”  
“Okay, good,” Arthur nods. “Karen, whenever you have O’Driscoll, ask what he thinks of the new guy.” Karen nods. “Then go on everyone, meet back up at lunch and tell me what you’ve learned.” Everyone spreads out towards their lockers and Arthur turns to Charles and Eagle Flies, who are both staring at him with eyebrows raised. “What?”  
“Did I just watch some kind of recon mission layout?” Eagle Flies chuckles.  
“No,” Arthur shakes his head, walking towards his locker. The other two follow him. “Just getting information on the new teacher, we need to know about him.”  
“But it’s so organized?” Eagle Flies says. “You guys always ‘get information’ like that?”  
“It’s complicated,” Arthur says. “This group originally belonged to Davey and Mac Callander, and they made sure nothing happened in this school that they didn’t know about. Bill, Javier, and I were their right-hand men and we did everything for them; gathered information, oversaw any kind of operations they ran, recruitment. Now that they’re gone, we now get to tell others to do that stuff, and that stuff includes checking out the new teacher.” Arthur throws his bookbag in his locker and holds out his hand. “Give me your stuff, it can go in here for now.”  
Charles and Eagle Flies hand over their book bags, which are tossed in with Arthur’s. “Shouldn’t we put them in our own lockers?” Eagle Flies cocks his head.  
“Yeah, but I wanna walk you guys to your first classes and we don’t have time to do all the locker stuff and get all 3 of us to class,” Arthur shrugs.  
“Ah, good morning, Mr. Morgan,” Milton says from behind Arthur, who sighs and turns to him. “Nice to see your bright smiling face at the start of this new year.” He continues sarcastically.  
“What do you want, Milton?” Arthur snaps, crossing his arms.  
“I’m just saying hello to you,” Milton almost seems to be grinding his teeth.  
“No you weren’t,” Arthur says. “You think I didn’t see you do this last year with Mac and Davey? You’re going to track down the seniors and give us all a warning.” He rolls his eyes. “Bill has Strauss and Javier is in study hall, if you wanna look for them too.”  
“Now Mr. Morgan, there is no need for the attitude-”  
“I can take it from here, Mr. Milton,” Hosea calls from his classroom nearby. Milton turns to sneer at Arthur and Hose sneers at him. Milton slinks off down the hall and Arthur quickly takes off towards Hosea’s room, dragging Charles and Eagle Flies with him.  
“That man thinks I’m an idiot, I swear,” Arthur scowls once Hosea closes the door.  
“Well, the Callanders left Bill in charge beside you and Javier, he probably assumes,” Hosea snorts. He gestures to the others. “Who are you two?”  
“Oh, this is Charles Smith and Eagle Flies…?” Arthur pauses. “Do you have a last name?”  
“No.”  
“....Why not?” Arthur asks, not trying to seem rude. “Charles does.”  
“Charles’ father isn’t a member of our tribe.” Eagle Flies says. “So he gave Charles his last name.”  
“Ah.” Arthur nods, looking at Hosea. “I didn’t know that.”  
“Well, hello to both of you,” Hosea says. “Welcome to Blackwater Township. As much as I would apologize for the group you’ve fallen into, I’m glad there are people to look after you too. The culture shock will surely settle in soon.”  
“If it hasn’t already,” Arthur snorts.  
Hosea looks at Arthur, acting as if the others were not there. “I do hope you behave more than Mac and Davey did, though. All of you.”  
“I can’t make promises for the others,” Arthur says. “But as long as Milton stays the hell outta my way, I won’t cause nothin’.”  
Hosea sighs softly and nods. “I wish I could help, Arthur. Now go on, get your friends to class. I’ll see you later.”


	4. Chapter 4

Lenny and Mary-Beth sit together in the back of Van Der Linde’s class, watching other freshmen file into the room. So far Van Der Linde hasn’t done anything; nodding to a few students and writing something on a black leather notebook. Mary-Beth had to admit Molly was right, he was very cute. A few of the other girls had taken seats in front of his desk and were watching him with attentive eyes.  
The thing Lenny noticed first wasn’t even Van Der Linde himself, but his cologne. It was nice but far too strong, even from where Lenny was seated. The next noticeable thing was the copy of American Eden by Evelyn Miller resting so proudly on the desk. Lenny read the book in middle school and found that, while his theories of a free society were phrased nicely, the actual idea being discussed was something young radical men use as an excuse to shoot up movie theatres and used by men who think wanting to join the military is a personality trait. The ideas were empty, only nurtured by people who claimed to be anarchists but are too scared to take a stand against the oppressors. Was Mr. Van Der Linde just like those people?  
The bell rings and Van Der Linde closes the door, turning to the students with a smile. “Good morning, everyone.” He says. “Some students mumble a greeting back. “I’m Mr. Van Der Linde. I know that can be a mouthful, however, so feel free to just call me Dutch.”  
“Dutch,” Lenny mumbles. He’s really going to be one of those teachers? Who lets students call him by his first name?  
“We’re gonna get started with attendance and then go from there,” Dutch says, looking at the roster. He reads off a few names and marks his paper up with no interruptions until he gets to Mary-Beth.  
“Mary-Beth Gaskill-William… Oh, your first and last name are hyphenated,” Dutch mumbles to himself. “Williamson.” He continues out loud and Mary-Beth visibly winces. “You wouldn’t happen to have a brother?”  
“Yes,” Mary-Beth sighs. It was only first period, how had this new teacher already heard of her brother? “He’s a senior.”  
Dutch nods. “Maybe I’ll see him later.”  
“You’ll have him 6th, I believe.” Mary-Beth nods.  
Dutch nods again and keeps reading the attendance as Mary-Beth settles into her seat. Had Milton already told Dutch about the gang? Should she warn them?  
Luckily, Mary-Beth didn’t have to make that decision before Lenny made it for her.

Lenny: Heads up, Van Der Linde’s heard Bill’s name somewhere before. Milton or O’Driscoll might’ve tipped him off.  
Arthur: Shit. Probably knows about the rest of us, too.  
Javier: Don’t change the plan just yet, let me see what’s up with him during homeroom.

When the bell rings, kids start scrambling to their homeroom classes, and Javier gets to see Dutch for himself. The man seems interesting enough but he’s trying too hard to seem special; Wearing a tailored vest and jacket, expensive cologne, and freshly-shined shoes. It wasn’t the usual showing off most people do the first day at a new job. What was this man going to get for showing up a bunch of teenagers?  
Dutch gives the same speech regarding his name and moves onto his attendance.

“Jake Adler?”  
“Here,”  
“Sadie… Adler?”  
“Here.”  
Dutch hums and looks between the two of them. “Siblings?” He asks.  
“No,” Jake chuckles. “We’re married.” The class is silent for only a moment before it starts buzzing with whispers and stares.  
“...Married?” Dutch finally speaks. “Really?”  
“Yep,” Sadie says. “Last October.”  
“Like, in the eyes of God and all that?” Javier snorts. “Why?”  
“Why does anyone get married?” Jake says.  
“Cause someone got knocked up,” Javier says  
“No!” Sadie smacks her lips. “‘Cause we love each other!”  
“You’re 17-18 years old,” Dutch snorts. “You’re far too young to know that.”  
“Sometimes you just know,” Sadie says.  
“See, you can say that about anyone,” Dutch says. “In 3 years you may not know that.”  
“Well, when did you get married?” Sadie asks, gesturing to the silver band on Dutch’s finger.  
Dutch snorts. “I’m not,” He says. “I was for a couple years, but my wife passed away.”  
The room quickly gets quiet as Sadie and Jake look at each other in horror. “I-I’m sorry-” Jake starts to say.  
“You don’t all have to have that sudden pity look,” Dutch says. “I don’t mind talking about it, you can ask about it.”  
“...What happened?” Sadie asks hesitantly after a couple seconds of tense silence.  
“Someone T-boned her car when she was coming home from work in March,” Dutch says. “They think it was a drunk driver, but whoever it was fled the scene before the police arrived, so we may never know for sure.”  
“Oh my God,” Sadie whispers. “I’m sorr-”  
“I know you’re sorry,” Dutch snorts jokingly. “It’s okay, everyone. Death is just a part of life you learn to accept.”  
“Still, it was your wife,” Jake says. “And it wasn’t that long ago.”  
“I know,” Dutch nods. “And I miss her, but that doesn’t mean I should become overly emotional or bitter man for the rest of my life. She wouldn’t have wanted that from me.” He smiles a bit, twisting the silver ring on his finger before turning back to the attendance. “Javier Escuella.”  
“Here,” Javier says softly as he raises his hand. Dutch’s expression changes for barely a second before he continues onto the other kids without looking at him.

Javier: He does know about some of us. He heard my name somewhere too.  
Arthur: Okay. We’ll talk at lunch, find out what to do next.  
Lenny: Oh, yeah, Dutch reads Evelyn Miller stuff.  
Javier: I see the book sitting on his desk  
Arthur: Same one Cornwall had?  
Javier: Idk, I can’t see the title from here.  
Bill: Hey, anyone see that married couple yet?  
Javier: The Adlers? They’re sitting behind me right now  
Molly: Married?  
Bill: That’s what they said.  
Arthur: Can you even get married when you’re in high school?  
Javier: I think your parents have to sign off on it or something.

“I understand this may be a free period, Mr. Escuella,” Dutch’s voice is right above him and Javier quickly shoves his phone into the sleeve of his hoodie. “But my classroom has a no-phone policy.” Dutch smiles. “Consider this your warning.” He walks back to his desk and leaves a few kids quietly giggling at Javier. The boy bares his teeth like a wild dog and the titters cease immediately. Dutch sees this and raises an eyebrow questioningly.  
“Okay, down boy.” Jake chuckles, patting Javier’s shoulder.  
“Jake, don’t-” Sadie starts to scold, but Javier has already reacted with lightning speed, jerking back in his chair in an attempt to bite Jake’s hand. Luckily, Jake has faster reflexes and pulls away in time to remain unscathed.  
“So that’s your gimmick, hm?” Dutch says, not getting up from his seat to address Javier. “People are scared of you cause you bite?”  
“What are you talking about??”  
“Your group,” Dutch says. “Gang, whatever I’ve been warned about. You’re not intimidating by your size alone, so you probably put on a ‘feral’ act to scare people into listening to you.”  
Javier scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know who told you about this ‘gang’ me and my friends just go here like everyone else. There’ no gang, no gimmicks. I don’t like people touching me, so I bite them. Makes them think twice next time.”  
Dutch nods and puts his hands up in passive defeat. “Alright.” He turns back to his computer.  
“I heard other teachers talking about the Callander gang,” Jake says. “Is that you and your friends?”  
“Mind your business,” Javier scowls.  
“The Callanders graduated last year,” Another classmate says from behind Sadie. “But the rest of the gang is still here.” There’s silence for a moment, and Javier knows he’s being pointed at. He puts his head down to avoid the stares behind him.  
“Oh, is that what the bandana’s for?” Jake says. Javier’s skin crawls near the bandana resting around his neck.  
“Mind your business,” Javier says sternly without lifting his head.  
“Okay, okay,” Jake says, frowning. “Sorry.”  
The door at the front of the room opens, and Javier finally looks up in time to see counselor Ross peeking in with a clipboard clutched in his hand. “Mr. Van Der Linde?”  
“Mr. Ross,” Dutch smiles. “What can I do for you?”  
“Just dropping by to see how your first class went,” Ross smiles and walks to Dutch’s desk. Javier can see a list of names written on the clipboard, but he can’t read any of them. “Freshmen can be quite rowdy.”  
“Oh, they were fine,” Dutch chuckles. “Probably won’t be a problem til the adrenaline of summer break wears off.”  
“Let’s hope that won’t be for a while,” Ross jokes, handing the clipboard to Dutch. “Mr. Milton wanted me to give this to you. It should be of some use to you.” Dutch looks the paper over as Ross whispers something to him. Javier watches Dutch’s eyes scan the paper, and his shoulders tense when Dutch makes eye contact with him.

Javier: If Dutch didn’t know all of our names, he does now. Ross just delivered a list from Milton.


	5. Chapter 5

A few periods later, the lunchroom is swamped with kids running to and fro trying to find seats with their friends. Teachers stand at the front of the room, reminding everyone of the rule that only 6 people can sit at a table. It’s a rule that was instated 2 years ago because of the Callander gang, who had at least 12 people attempting to sit at one table once Micah joined. Milton said they were clogging up the flow of the lunchroom and forced the new rule on the whole lunchroom.  
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Javier blurts as soon as he sits at the same table as Arthur, Sean, and Bill. He nearly slams his tray on the table and props his head up on his hands as his elbows rest on the table.  
“Who?” Arthur asks through a mouthful of chips.  
“Van Der Linde,” Javier grumbles.  
“Jesus,” Bill says. “Are you still mad about that?”  
“I just can’t believe he said it in front of everyone!” Javier scoffs.  
“What did he say?” Arthur asks.  
“He said I’m not ‘big enough’ to be intimidating!”  
“Well, you’re not,” Sean says, snorting. “Arthur and Bill are really the only ones who can intimidate by sight alone.”  
“Gee, thanks,” Arthur grunts.  
“But your reputation is far scarier,” Sean says to Javier. “It’s the predictability of your behavior that makes you downright terrifying to face off with.”  
“Room for two more?” John says as he and Lenny sit down.  
“Ah, maybe not,” Arthur says. “Hopin’ Charles and Eagle Flies could sit with us.”  
“Shit, I forgot all about them,” Lenny laughs. “We’ll hop over with the girls or somethin.”  
“Think Abigail saved a seat for John, but I think that fills their table,” Arthur says. Lenny’s face falls a bit as he looks around for another table.  
“Hang on,” Bill grumbles, picking his stuff up. “You can sit here, I’ll find another seat.”  
“Why are you moving?” John asks as he stands up. “It’s your table- Fuck!” He barks as Micah steals the seat he just vacated. “Hey!”  
“Shouldn’t have gotten up,” Micah sneers.  
“He got up cause this table’s full,” Arthur says.  
“How?” Micah says.  
“Me,” Arthur points to himself, then the others. “Sean, Javier, Lenny, then Charles and Eagle Flies.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles and Eagle Flies standing a few feet away, watching them as they hold their lunch trays.  
“Now hang on a minute!” Micah snaps. “I thought I had to go sit with the girls until I proved I could be trusted enough to sit at the table with you guys.” He leans back in the seat, crossing his arms. “I don’t trust those redskins, they ain’t sitting here.”  
“Excuse me?” Eagle Flies’ voice sounds like a cold wind as Micah suddenly puts all four legs of his chair back on the floor and turns to the two standing behind him. “What did you call us?”  
“Yeah, this is a good time to leave,” John snorts as he and Bill quickly run off. Lenny takes the seat Bill was in a moment ago and gives Arthur a look.  
“You heard me,” Micah stands up, stepping up to Eagle Flies. “I said I don’t want you sitting at my table.”  
“I didn’t ask what you said,” Eagle Flies steps forward, but Charles grabs his arm and pulls him back a bit. “I asked you to repeat what you called us.”  
“Okay, hang on, hang on.” Arthur quickly stands up, pushing Micah away from Charles and Eagle Flies. “Micah, go find wherever Bill went and go sit with him,” Micah growls and stomps off and Arthur’s shoulders slump a bit as he relaxes. “Jesus Christ.”  
“You tolerate that?” Eagle Flies suddenly turns to Arthur and snaps.  
“No!” Arthur scoffs. “I just shooed him away, it ain’t like I just told him to sit back down.”  
“But he’s still your friend?” Eagle Flies huffs. “Does he speak that way to them?” He gestures to Lenny and Javier.  
“Stop,” Charles hisses at him. “You don’t need to be getting in a fight on the first day.”  
“You’re okay with him talking about us like that?” Eagle turns to him.  
“Of course not,” Charles says. “But I promised your dad I’d watch you, make sure you didn’t cause a scene. There is a time and a place, and this isn’t it.”  
“He started it!”  
“I. Don’t. Care.” Charles says sternly.  
“Is there a problem over here?” Milton’s voice rings in Arthur’s head like an alarm as everyone turns to him, watching the table with knowing eyes.  
“No,” Arthur says. “Just trying to find seats for the new kids.” Milton looks at Charles and Eagle Flies for a long moment before turning and walking away.  
“Sit.” Charles grabs Eagle Flies by the shoulder and shoves him into a seat, taking the last empty seat as Arthur retakes his seat.  
“Well,” Arthur says. “That happened. Hi.”  
“Hi,” Charles says.  
“You guys enjoying your first day?” Arthur asks. “Not counting this period?”  
“It could be worse,” Charles says.  
“It’s not what I expected.” Eagle Flies answers, finally starting to calm down.  
“Is that good or bad?” Lenny snorts.  
“Good, I guess.” Eagle Flies says and he and Charles start eating.  
“Eagle Flies, have you had Van Der Linde yet?” Arthur asks.  
“No, I have him period after next.”  
“Okay, so seniors will see him first,” Arthur nods. “We’ll see what all Javier’s fussin’ is about.”  
“The ‘fussing’ is because he’s talking shit!” Javier snaps.  
“Consider it constructive criticism,” Sean snorts.  
“I will fucking cut you, you little shit.” Javier hisses.  
“Listen,” Lenny smacks the table semi-hard, getting Javier’s attention. “Are you about to be acting all pissy the rest of the day, cause I’ll call Micah back over here, you and Eagle here can knock him around, get suspended, and then you don’t have to see Van Der Linde for a week when you get suspended.”  
“No one’s getting suspended-” Arthur starts.  
“Eagle Flies.”  
“Hm?” Lenny turns to him.  
“My name isn’t Eagle, it’s Eagle Flies.”  
“I was just shortening it,” Lenny says. “It would’ve sounded clunky in the sentence if I used your full name.”  
“Well, don’t do that.” Eagle Flies says plainly, picking at a fleck of burnt cheese on his pizza.  
Lenny puts his hands up. “Okay,” He says. “My bad, man. Didn’t know that was something that gets under your skin.”  
“Once something gets under his skin, everything else does too,” Charles says.   
“Yeah, we know someone like that,” Sean says, eyeing Javier. Javier bares his teeth and Sean rolls his eyes, turning back to his food.

“Hey,” Dutch gently knocks on Hosea’s doorway. The older man sits at his desk in the empty classroom, eating his food in peace away from the cafeteria. “Mind if I join you?”  
Hosea gestures to the seat next to him, mouth full of food. Dutch sits next to him and pulls out his lunch. “How was your morning?” Hosea says between bites.  
“Good,” Dutch says. “Milton sent Ross to give me a list of everyone in that gang Colm mentioned this morning.”  
“Yeah?” Hosea hums.  
“Yep.” Don’t think he got all of them, though.”  
“What makes you say that?”  
“Do you know if Williamson’s little sister is involved at all?” Dutch asks. “Mary-Beth?”  
“Maybe, I’ve never heard of her,” Hosea says. “Newest ones I’ve heard of are Charles Smith and Eagle Flies. A senior and a junior, respectively; Arthur’s friends who just came this year.”  
“I mean, do they even have freshmen?” Dutch pulls the list out of his pocket and looks it over.  
“I don’t know if they’ve picked freshmen recruits yet,” Hosea says, looking over the list. “It’s only the first day of school, they normally don’t start scouting until at least Halloween.”  
Dutch nods absentmindedly. “Met Javier Escuella during homeroom.”  
“My condolences.” Hosea chuckles. “Did he growl at you?”  
“He tried to bite another student,” Dutch says.  
“Ah,” Hosea nods. “He has been known to do that.” He keeps looking at the list for a few seconds. “...Would you like some tips?”  
“Please,” Dutch slides the paper to Hosea and Hosea pulls out a pen.  
“Okay, so let me start with your sophomores,” Hosea says. “There’s only 3 of them, they’re pretty simple to keep track of. Tilly Jackson and Abigail Roberts will always work together, just check on them from time to time and make sure they’re getting work done. Abigail is currently 5 or 6 months pregnant, so go easy on her and let her get away with being late or leaving early and such.”  
“You said three sophomores?” Dutch says after Hosea is quiet for a moment.  
“Sean MacGuire,” Hosea sighs softly. “He’s one of the biggest troublemakers, he has quite a mouth on him and he uses it whenever he can. Once you start an argument with him you’ve lost, even if you’re right.”  
“Noted.”  
“For your juniors, you have John Marston, Karen Jones, and Micah Bell. John is Abigail’s little beau and he doesn’t pay much attention in class because he’s always writing. Don’t discourage the writing, just deter him from doing it during class. Karen is very loud and opinionated, especially about other teachers, but she’s a good girl for the most part. Micah-” Hosea pauses, letting out another sigh as Dutch sees him gather his thoughts. “Keep an eye on Micah, the boy can prattle off a dozen slurs a minute if he’s left unchecked. Also, watch him in the halls between class changes, he’s been caught messing with underclassmen before, shoving them around and things like that.”  
Dutch nods, watching as Hosea writes nearly a paragraph about each person in neatly curved handwriting. “And what about my seniors? I know about Javier, but they others?”  
“Arthur Morgan,” Hosea says. “Far as I’m concerned, he’s nothing to be too worried about since he has new friends to show off to. He’ll probably be on good behavior for the most part. He does like to draw though, so just like with John; don’t discourage him or call attention to it, just occupy him with other things.” Hosea starts scratching out the name Marion on the next line and writes Bill above it. “Williamson used to get teased for his first name, now he prefers the name Bill, don’t bother calling him anything else. He will more than likely not do a single piece of classwork this year, he doesn’t care how low his grades get. He used to play football but was barred this year due to some disciplinary actions last year, so his form of rebellion is dropping out of school in all senses but physically; he pretty much checked out late last year and passed all his classes by only one or two points.”  
“What happened last year?” Dutch asks.  
“We’re not really supposed to talk about it,” Hosea says. “The entire gang was suspended for a while, that’s about all we can talk about.” He turns back to the list, quickly diverting Dutch’s attention. “Okay, last one, Molly O’Shea. Double-check her work for any inconsistencies, she rarely turns in her own work on the first try.”  
“And when will we know which freshmen they’ve recruited?” Dutch finally asks as Hosea passes the list back to him. Dutch folds it back up and puts it in his pocket.  
“Guess we’ll just have to see who we find walking around with them.”

“What’s going on over there?” Lenny nods over Arthur’s shoulder to a crowd forming towards the back corner of the cafeteria.  
“Is it a fight?” Sean suddenly leaps out of his seat, crawling on the table to get a better view.  
“Mr. MacGuire, get down!” Grimshaw barks from her seat at the teacher’s table.  
“Who is already fighting on the first day?” Arthur asks, leaning over to see better.  
Mary-Beth, sitting a few tables away and closer to the action, gets up and quickly makes her way to the table Bill and Micah found themselves sitting at. “Bill,” She quickly grabs the sleeve of his shirt and starts pulling him. “Help me.”  
“What, why?” Bill snaps.  
“Cause I know the kid they’re messing with.”  
Bill groans, getting up. “Why should I care?”  
“We should just let whoever it is get hurt?”  
“If it ain’t one of us, yeah!” Bill scoffs incredulously.  
When they’re close enough to the crowd, Milton’s voice booms over the room- “Everyone clear out!” The crowd dissipates, leaving one boy lying on the ground, covering his head.  
“Oh, no!” Mary-Beth quickly runs to the boy’s side, kneeling down to help him up. “Are you okay?” The boy sits up, and Mary-Beth brushes a piece of dark hair behind his ear. The same boy was in her gym class, getting teased earlier in the day, and she had been quick to help him then, too.  
“I’m ok-kay.” The boy says, his face flushing red as he scrambles to his feet. He feels a bunch of eyes on him and starts walking away, hiding his face.  
“See? He’s fine, c’mon.” Bill grumbles, grabbing Mary-Beth by the arm and taking her back to her table before returning to his own seat.  
Mary-beth scoffs as Bill walks away. She turns to see the boy slink out of the lunchroom, heading towards the bathroom. “Poor kid,” She says. “That’s the second time I’ve seen him jumped today.”  
“Milton doesn’t do anything?” Tilly asks.  
Karen laughs out loud, slamming her hand on the table. “Fuck no.”  
“He doesn’t care,” Molly agrees. “Unless there are actual weapons involved, he doesn’t care if someone’s getting hurt.”  
“That’s not right,” Tilly shakes her head. “If this school has a zero-tolerance policy on bullying, it needs to be enforced no matter what, weapons or not.”  
“Oh, he still enforces it,” Karen snorts. “Just not on the right people. If that kid had thrown a punch, Milton would’ve had him expelled.”  
“He would be, but not the kid who started it?” Mary-Beth gasps. “That’s not fair!”  
“It’s happened before,” Karen says. “It don’t have to be a fight, either, it can be any kind of misconduct.”  
“Tell them about homecoming last year,” Tilly says.  
“Oh, yeah!” John finally speaks. “Last year, someone took pictures up Karen’s dress at homecoming and posted them online.”  
“I got suspended for 12 days,” Karen nods.  
“This school is a damn joke,” Tilly snorts. “Unbelievable.”  
“That’s how Davey and Mac recruited,” Molly says. “See who’s not drinking from the teachers’ kool-aid and scoop them up.”  
“Cornwall knew the school was a joke too, that’s why he got fired,” Karen says.  
“Matthews will probably be next,” Molly says. “Since we’re in better standing with him than anyone else.”  
“Shame,” Karen says. “I really like Mr. Matthews.”  
“Hey, maybe if we all act like we like O’Driscoll, he’ll get fired.” Molly snickers

“Here you are,” Colm says from the doorway. Dutch looks up and smiles while Hosea scowls. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”  
“No, of course not,” Hosea says. He clicks his tongue at Colm when he attempts to step into the room, getting up from his seat with lightning speed and blocking the doorway.  
“Oh, you’re so immature,” Colm snaps, sneering. “Dutch, can you come out in the hallway, please? I wanna talk to you and Hosea here has a rule against me in his classroom.”  
“You’re damn right I do.” Hosea nearly spits on him but refrains from doing so as Dutch stands up. Hosea moves to the side and Dutch leaves the room, the door slamming shut behind him.  
“Does Hosea not like you?” Dutch says, eyebrows raised.  
“Nope,” Colm says, laughing. “A lot of people here don’t.” He plucks the list from Dutch’s breast pocket, unfolding it and looking it over. “Ah, Milton gave you his roster, hm?”  
“Yeah,” Dutch chuckles. “Do you have any tips?”  
“The kids can smell fear,” Colm says as he reads through the notes Hosea wrote. “Don’t let them heckle you.”  
“Everyone is talking about them like they’re some unstoppable force or some kind of disease,” Dutch snorts. “No wonder the kids have a thirst for the blood of authority figures, everyone acts like they’re monsters.”  
“Those kids will act however they want to, no change in the way we talk about them will change that,” Colm says. “Milton tried to be nice to them, and they just threw it in his face.”  
“They’re teenagers,” Dutch says. “They think the whole world is out to get them and they want to express that without ridicule.”  
“Well, Milton thinks they should be ridiculed,” Colm says. “He thinks the job of a teenager is to grow up and act like an adult, and he’ll do anything to get these kids to fall in line.” He pulls out a pen and puts a star by Arthur Morgan’s name. “Milton has told a couple of the others to go after this kid, he’s in charge.”  
“Hosea just said not to worry too much about him,” Dutch says.  
“Well, someone’s gotta be running the gang,” Colm says. “Williamson is too stupid and Escuella is too quick to anger, so Morgan has to be in charge. They’ll all drown without him.”  
“Don’t you think that’s a bit malicious?” Dutch says. “Targeting a kid to try to get him expelled? I mean, this is the only high school in the district; he wouldn’t have to just move schools, he’d have to move districts.”  
“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have joined a gang then,” Colm snorts. “Maybe they all should’ve thought twice.”

“So next period we’re gonna try and get some more information out of him,” Arthur says. “See if we can fill up class time getting him to talk about himself.”  
“What are you hoping to find?” Bill asks.  
“We probably won’t know ‘til we find it,” Arthur says.


	6. Chapter 6

When the bell rings to dismiss lunch, Mary-Beth sneaks away from the others and waits near the boys' bathroom. When the boy from earlier exits and starts walking down the hall, Mary-Beth quickly catches up to him, gently grabbing his sleeve so she doesn’t lose him in the crowd. “Hey,” She says.  
The boy looks back in alarm, but his face softens when he sees it’s her. “Hey there.”  
“Just wanted to check on you,” Mary-Beth says. “You’ve gotten pretty banged up today.”  
“Oh, I’m fine.” The boy chuckles. “I’m always gettin’ banged up one way or ‘nother.”  
“What class are ya heading to?”  
“History.”  
“I have math,” Mary-Beth says. “Let me walk with you; the classes are in the same hallway.”  
“Okay.” The boy shrugs softly, hiding his face behind shaggy dark hair.  
Mary-Beth keeps a protective grip on his arm as they walk. “Ain’t seen you before, are you new?”  
“Yeah,” The boy nods.  
“Well, welcome to Blackwater.” Mary-beth smiles. “Sorry you didn’t have a warmer welcome. I’m Mary-Beth.”  
“Kieran.”  
“Well, Kieran,” Mary-Beth says as they start following the flow of traffic up a narrow staircase. “The biggest downside to living in such a small town is that everyone knows who the new kids are. I wouldn’t worry too much, though, you’re gonna be fine.”  
Kieran nods and hesitantly looks around as they walk down the new hallway. He sees a couple people from the confrontation in the lunchroom, but they made no move to advance on him now. “They ain’t really botherin’ me anymore.” He says hopefully.  
“It’s ‘cause of me,” Mary-Beth nods. “My brother is kind of a big deal, so no one wants to get involved if I’m involved.”  
“Who’s your brother?” Kieran asks. “I mean, I saw him; I know who he is, but why i-is he a big deal?”  
“Heard anything ‘bout the Callander gang yet?”  
“No.”  
“Well,” Mary-Beth snickers. “There’s a first. Callander gang was run by the Callander brothers before they graduated. My brother Bill is one of the front runners this year, so he’s untouchable, which makes me untouchable.” She tightens the grip on Kieran’s arm a bit. “Which means right now, you’re untouchable.” She smiles as they stop in front of Kieran’s classroom and she pats his arm gently. “Guess I’ll see ya around, Kieran.”  
“See ya.”

“Good to see you again, Mr. Escuella,” Dutch smiles when Javier enters the room, followed by Arthur, Charles, Bill, and Molly.  
“Yeah,” Javier grumbles as the gang takes seats in the back of the room. “Glad to be back.”  
“Hopefully there has been an attitude change since this morning?” Dutch asks.  
“Sure.”  
Dutch chuckles. “You guys friends of his?” He glances down at his desk, and Javier scowls when he sees the list from earlier, now marked up with handwriting.  
Arthur sees the list as well, and can tell that it’s Hosea’s handwriting “Mr. Matthews tell you about us?” He chuckles as the gang sits in the back of the room.  
“Amongst others, yes,” Dutch says. “Which one are you?”  
“Arthur Morgan.”  
Dutch’s face lights up a bit. “Arthur! I’ve heard good things about you!”  
“Really?” Arthur cocks his head.  
“No.” Dutch’s face returns to normal. “Mixed reviews, I’m afraid.”  
“Oh, I bet." Bill snorts. “Arthur’s the good one of us.”  
“No I ain’t,” Arthur snorts.  
“Hey, you brought your friends this time!” Javier groans as Jake enters the room, followed by Sadie.  
“Who are you?” Arthur snorts.  
“I’m Jake Adler.”  
“Oh, you’re that married guy, right?” Arthur asks.  
“Yep!” Jake gestures to Sadie. “This is my wife, Sadie.”  
“Do you guys have every class together?” Javier asks.  
“Just the common core classes,” Sadie says. “English and math and stuff like that.”  
“Well, this is Arthur, Bill, Molly.” Javier gestures to everyone.  
“And Charles.” Arthur points.  
“Yeah, him too,” Javier says.  
The bell rings and Dutch stands up, handing a stack of papers to the first person in each row. “Take one and pass them back,” He says to them. “Good afternoon, everyone.” No response. “By now, most of you know what I’m about to say, but for those of you who don’t: I’m Mr. Van Der Linde, which is a mouthful. Call me Dutch if it makes it easier.”  
“That’s probably boring to say 6 times, huh?” Jake chuckles.  
Dutch acknowledges him with a smile and continues. “Now let’s get to the exciting part. Over the past few years, those of you who aren’t new this year have been preparing your senior thesis, which is a required project for graduation.”  
“Oh, he’s really starting the first day with this?” Bill smacks his lips, hissing.  
“You’re joking,” Molly scoffs at the same time.  
Dutch hears both of these responses and keeps talking. “Some of you are new, like me, and have no idea what I’m talking about.” He nods towards Charles and the Adlers. “Mr. Morgan, will you explain what the senior thesis project is?”  
“Freshman year, we were given a topic,” Arthur says, leaning back in his seat. “To have enough points to get the last English credit for graduation, you need to write a paper and do a speech on your topic.”  
“It’s required?” Charles asks softly. Javier nods and Charles makes a face, looking down at his lap.  
“Let’s be honest,” Dutch says. “You guys were probably given some stupid topics.” A few kids mumble in agreement. “Mr. Williamson, what was your topic?”  
“I dunno, never asked.”  
Dutch raises an eyebrow. “So what have you been doing your project on?”  
“Nothin’.” Bill snorts. “Ain’t doing’ the project at all.”  
Dutch opens his mouth to speak, but changes course. “Mr. Escuella, what about you?”  
“How the growth of agriculture in urban areas is a danger to the local farmers.” Javier drones. He had it memorized by this point, how many times he’s been forced to repeat it over the years.  
“And what do they mean by ‘Agriculture in urban areas’?” Dutch asks.  
“Community gardens.”  
“So you have spent the past 3 years writing about how community gardens, which are more popular in large cities like New York, are hurting the farmers here in West Elizabeth?” Dutch says. Javier nods. “That’s stupid.” A few kids gasp and start whispering to each other as Javier and Arthur share a look. “Wouldn’t you much rather write a paper on a better topic? A topic more suited to you?”  
“Like what?” Javier says.  
“I dunno, pick one.” Dutch shrugs, gesturing to the class. “The paper that has been passed back to you is a new submission for your senior thesis topic. I expect them to be turned in by the end of the week.”  
“We’re picking our own topics?” Arthur asks. “Anything we want?”  
“If you think you can give me 10 pages or more on it, yes,” Dutch says.  
“There’s no way Milton approved this.” Bill snorts.  
“Last time I heard, Principal Milton doesn’t have an English Education degree,” Dutch says. “But I do, so I will choose how my classroom functions.”  
“Is there a maximum page limit?” Jake asks, raising his hand.  
“Just remember I read each essay at least twice to grade it.” Dutch chuckles. “Don’t make it longer just for spite.”  
“I’m gonna write about how much Milton sucks.” Javier snorts. The gang begins laughing and Dutch smiles.  
“I wouldn’t phrase it like that,” He says. “But sure, go for it. I’m curious to see your perspective on Milton’s behavior.”  
Javier blinks “You’d really let me write a paper like that?”  
“Why not?” Dutch says. The gang share a look and Dutch cocks his head. “Is something wrong?”  
“What’s the game here?” Arthur asks.  
“Game?”  
“You were hired by Milton to teach this class,” Arthur says. “You wouldn’t let a student write a paper about why the same man that hired you sucks.”  
“As I said, I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”  
“How would you phrase it, then?” Arthur scoffs.  
“How Milton’s students develop a mob mentality to cope with his criminalization of the youth under his care.”  
“Oh, you think you know us that well already?” Arthur snorts. “We formed a gang because Milton thinks badly of us? You sure it ain’t the other way around?”  
“It very well could be,” Dutch nods. “To my understanding, Milton thinks you guys are the worst thing to ever happen, and he’s got other teachers believing it, too. I have been in this school for-” He checks his watch. “Six and a half hours, and I have been warned by at least five different people of the Callander Gang.”  
“Milton thinks we’re the worst thing to ever happen because we don’t put up with his dictator bullshit,” Javier growls. “He thinks he can snap his fingers and bark some orders and everyone will fall in line, but we ain’t doin it.”  
“And I told both O’Driscoll and Matthews that that is normal behavior for kids your age.” Dutch nods. “They even agreed with me. So how did we get to this point?” He holds up the list.  
“Easy,” Javier says. “Milton thinks he can alienate us by turning the entire school against us.”  
“Elaborate,” Dutch says.  
“It’s such a cliche story,” Arthur says. “When Mac and Davey first started high school, they had fun doing shit. I mean, we still did shit like give teachers attitude, but we weren’t the scourge of the earth like people act like now.”  
“What happened?” Dutch asks.  
“It started when Mac got sent to Milton’s office for talking back to a teacher, and Milton told him if he was in his office again, he’d be suspended,” Arthur says. “So, in true Mac Callander fashion, got sent to the office every other period that day and got suspended. Davey already had a bad reputation too and did the same thing until he was suspended, so Milton told them if they wanted a problem, they’d have one.”  
“When we all started coming to school here, we started giving Milton a problem too,” Javier says. “He started making all these rules to get us in trouble, and we just kept coming at him.”  
“Milton started calling us a ‘gang’ as propaganda to get the teachers to turn on us.”  
“I mean,” Jake says. “You guys don’t really help with the ‘gang’ thing. There’s an aura around you guys built on intimidation and precedence.”  
“We’re just a group of friends, buddy,” Arthur says. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”  
“Well, you say that,” Dutch snorts. “But you know other people don’t think that, right?” He holds up the list. “Mr. O’Driscoll claimed that you guys are friends with Mr. Matthews.”  
“Yeah, and?”  
“Well, Mr. Matthews wrote down some things here. Little quirks about you guys I might want to remember.” He sits on his desk cross-legged up and begins reading: “Javier is nearly a straight-A student, although he doesn’t act like it. He’s played baseball for the district since he enrolled in middle school, but is not playing this year. I expect this loss of activity will cause him to lose his temper more easily. He normally mouths off in class, sometimes growling and biting students. I find it best to not call attention to any of this in class, but send him to Milton for discipline, as being talked to in a public setting only causes him to act out more. Good friends with John Marston, almost always seen together outside of class.” Javier growls softly, his face getting hotter with boiled blood. How dare Dutch start reading these notes out like this in front of everyone? “Arthur can be bright at times, usually seen ignoring instructions and doing things his own way.” Dutch continues. “You’ll also find him drawing during class. Encourage him to keep drawing- ‘Do not tell him if you looked at his drawings’ is underlined, by the way- but tell him not to do it during class. He has a new friend, Charles Smith, who is also in your 6th-period class. He’ll be on his best behavior for a while because of this.” Dutch looks between Arthur and Charles and keeps going. “Has minor test anxiety, allow him to take tests a second time if he seems distracted or fidgety during the first one. Molly rarely does her own work, cross-reference with other members of Callander’s gang to find out who is doing her homework for her. Doesn’t seem to like the other girls, or any of the boys for that matter. Not sure how she fell in with this group, or why they’ve kept her this long.”  
“That’s reassuring,” Molly grumbles.  
“Bill has lost his drive, seemed void of purpose towards the end of last year, see if you can wake him up somehow. Not the smartest in the group, doesn’t do work unless working with a partner; threats to contact his father normally keep him in passing range. Good luck getting him to do his senior thesis speech, he has stage fright.” Dutch puts the paper down and looks the gang over again. “I have tips on your junior and sophomore members, as well. I’ve had your names memorized since 8 this morning because they’ve been repeated about a hundred times since I arrived. This school wants to talk about nothing but the Callander gang.”  
Arthur glances around and sees everyone staring at his gang, who sit scolded and red-faced as they grumble among themselves. “Big deal,” Arthur says, leaning back more in his seat in an attempt to save face. “Matthews wrote some shit about us on a piece of paper, it doesn’t mean he knows us. It don’t mean you know us.” He tries to keep a level head, but something about the way Dutch looks at him makes him nervous, emphasizing the rest of the eyes on him. Are there eyes on him?”We could say just as much about Hosea.”  
“But he’s not who we’re talking about, is he?” Dutch hums. “We’re talking about you guys.”  
“What we should be talking about is the damn class, or the project, or whatever the fuck.” Bill huffs.  
Dutch sighs softly. “You know, I don’t think you’re bad kids-”  
“Don’t.” Javier snorts, causing Dutch to cock his head. “Don’t give us the same speech we’ve heard a hundred times before.”  
“I was just saying-”  
“Well, what you were ‘just saying’ has been just said about every time a teacher is introduced to us,” Javier says.  
“It’s the same speech you hear in those ‘based on a true story’ movies where the teacher helps their underprivileged youth with the power of education or whatever,” Arthur says. “You don’t think we’re bad kids, we’re just lost or misled or broken-”  
“I wasn’t gonna say none of that,” Dutch blinks, amused. “You really think teachers talk to their students like that?”  
“Here they do.” Bill scoffs.  
“When teachers hear about us,” Arthur says. “They respond one of two ways: Either they give us the ‘you’re not bad kids’ talk or the ‘I won’t stand any buffoonery’ talk.”  
“Okay, then let’s not have those talks,” Dutch says. “I look forward to getting to know you guys better.”  
The bell rings and everyone gets up; a few kids put the senior thesis paper on Dutch’s desk as they leave, but most of the kids take the paper with them.  
The gang leaves the room in a huff, not even bothering to respond when Dutch calls, “See you tomorrow, guys!”  
“The nerve on that guy!” Bill scoffs.  
“See?” Javier throws his hands up. “I told you!”  
“Hosea’s getting a piece of my mind 8th period,” Arthur says. “Watch.”  
“Okay, yes, fuck Hosea,” Molly says. “But who told Dutch it was okay for him to read that stuff out loud?”  
“That’s exactly what I was telling everyone!” Javier says. “You all wanted to act like I was crazy this morning for being mad!”  
Arthur quickly takes out his phone as everyone starts splitting up, avoiding teacher’s nosy looks as he texts the group”

Arthur: Sophomores and Juniors, do not talk to Van Der Linde besides attendance. Seriously, we’ll regroup at the clubhouse later  
Sean: What happened?  
Arthur: Just don’t talk to him. Someone make sure Micah stays quiet too. (Liked by 6 people)


	7. Chapter 7

“Fuck you!”  
Hosea sits cross-legged on the stage, reading a book as the gang begins pooling into the auditorium. “Hello, Mr. Williamson,” He says without looking up. “What have I done to upset you now-”  
“Don’t Mr. Williamson me!” Bill barks. “You know damn well what you did!”  
“Ah, you’ve been to English class, then?”  
“Yeah.” Arthur jumps up on the stage, towering over Hosea with his arms crossed.  
“Why are you upset, Arthur?” Hosea finally looks up, closing his book. “I said nice things about you.”  
“Telling Dutch I have anxiety is nice?” Arthur snorts. “He told the whole class that.”  
“And you called me stupid!” Bill shouts, causing Lenny- seated beside him- to cover his ears.  
“I didn’t say you were stupid,” Hosea says. “I just said you weren’t the smartest, and he would’ve learned that on his own.”  
“Okay, what happened?” John finally demands.  
“Milton gave Dutch a list with all our names,” Arthur says. “Hosea wrote notes about us on that list, and Dutch read them in class.”  
“Okay,” Tilly says, rolling her eyes. “I doubt that’s what happened.”  
“I mean, they’re not lying,” Jake says when he comes in. Javier groans loudly and slams his head on the chair in front of him. “We were talking about your gang and stuff, and he just started reading all the stuff about the seniors.”  
“Who are you?” John asks.  
“Jake Adler,” Jake says. Javier drones it simultaneously and Jake frowns.  
“Where’s Sadie?” Arthur snorts, hopping off the stage and finding a seat.  
“I think woodshop,” Jake says.  
“You’re taking theatre and your wife is taking woodshop?” Bill laughs. “Man, I got so many questions about you two.”  
“If I have one more class with this guy,” Javier threatens. No one heard him.  
“Did you tell us to keep quiet cause he read that stuff?” Micah asks.  
“Yeah,” Arthur says. “Didn’t know what he was going to write about you guys.”  
“Someone’s gotta talk to him eventually,” Sean says. “I mean, did you guys get anything on him?”  
“No, we didn’t even get to ask him anything, he started with that shit immediately,” Bill grumbles.  
“Maybe that was his plan,’ Hosea hums.  
“Why would he have a plan?” Arthur scoffs.  
“Well, he says he’s been a teacher for a few years now,” Hosea says. “He probably knows kids like to ask about the new teacher, maybe embarrassing you in class was a way to keep that from happening.”  
“Well, that was a dick way to do it,” Bill says.  
“Kept you guys from asking questions though, didn’t it?” Hosea says.  
“Oh, I’mma ask him some questions, bet,” Sean scoffs. “I ain’t scared of some little list, and I sure as shit ain’t scared of whatever you can write on a piece of paper.” He gestures to Hosea.  
“Don’t get the others dragged into this,” Arthur says. “Like I said, we’ll talk about it later, come up with a new plan.”  
“Yes, that will have to be later,” Hosea says. “We need to get started.” He finally stands, looking out at the children from the front of the stage. “How is everyone’s first day going?”  
The group groans, everyone talking over one another and the room growing louder because of the acoustics throughout the auditorium. Charles and Jake watch the commotion curiously until Hosea puts his hand up and everyone gets quiet.  
“You guys obviously have a lot of feelings about this year already.” Hosea snorts. “It’s only the first day.”  
“He’s letting us choose the topics for our senior thesis,” Arthur says after a moment of silence.  
“Wait, seriously?” Sean gasps. Hosea sighs and begins sitting back down on the stage  
“Yeah,” Javier says. “Told us to throw out the old shit and pick a new topic.”  
“Milton didn’t approve that,” Hosea rolls his eyes.  
“He didn’t,” Javier says. “But Dutch said it’s his classroom, not Milton’s, and he wants us to write what we want.”  
“And what have you all picked?” Hosea asks.  
“We haven’t chosen yet-” Arthur starts.  
“I’m writing about how Milton sucks,” Javier says.  
“You’re not writing that,” Arthur says.  
“Why not?”  
“It’s a research paper, Javier, you can’t just write that and have no sources.”  
“Bet,” Javier looks around the room, pointing at Bill, Sean, Karen, and Hosea. “Four sources to interview, plus Mac and Davey-”  
“Leave me out of this,” Hosea says quickly.  
“Interviews don’t count as sources, do they?” John says. “Thought it had to be academic journals or something?”  
“Have you actually read the fucking packet?” Bill laughs.  
“...Course not.” John grumbles, sinking in his seat.  
“What packet?” Mary-Beth asks.  
“When we got our original assignments, it came with a like, 8-page packet telling us all the rules and requirements, including what does and doesn’t count as a source.”  
“They really made sure you had no breathing room for this, didn’t they?” Jake snorts.  
“Well, it’s only because most people use this paper as their college application essay, too,” Hosea says. “So everyone is given appropriate topics and strictly graded to ensure their success.”  
“I’m keeping what I had for the original to use for college,” Tilly says. “But if I can write a new one for this class, I’m doing it.”  
“You pick a topic yet?” Bill asks Jake.  
“Bill, leave him alone,” Arthur says.  
“Nah, this guy gets weirder and weirder every time he talks, so I want him to talk again. You pick a topic yet?” Bill repeats.  
“I’m gonna write about how teenagers are forced to work in environments unfriendly to them, despite being the majority of the working population.”  
Arthur raises an eyebrow. “That can’t be right,”  
“In the summertime, 16-20 year olds make up almost 60% of the workforce,” Jake says. “Looked it up during class.”  
“I believe it,” Hosea says. “I mean, how many of you have jobs?” The gang glance around the room as they raise their hands, leaving only Charles without a hand up. “That’s nearly 98% of the room,”  
“On top of that,” Tilly says. “Most of us work in the same places.”  
“And how many adults work those places at the same time as you?” Jake says.  
“None,” Bill says.  
“None,” Arthur says.  
“One or two, depending on the day,” Tilly says.  
“Two,” Lenny says.  
“So that’s 4 adults out of…” Jake counts. “13 underage workers. That’s a little bit under ⅓. And that’s just within your legal shifts. Be honest with me, how many of you work under the table or off the clock?” A few hands go up. “Exactly.”  
“Not every teenager has a job though,” Arthur says.  
“Neither does every adult,” Jake says.  
“Especially here in Blackwater,” Hosea says. “More kids work than adults, I promise you.”  
“He’s got a point,” Bill snorts. “Half this town is freeloading on government assistance.”  
“Including your father, Mr. Williamson, so choose your next words wisely,” Hosea hums.  
“Hey, my dad ain’t freeloading!” Bill barks. “He fought for this country and nearly died, he earned his disability check!” The room groans as Bill takes in a breath to prepare for another lecture about his father.  
“He got one bullet in the side!” Arthur quickly intercepts Bill’s attention. “Christ Bill, I’ve gotten a bullet in the leg before and I still work!”  
“Well, my dad can’t work!” Bill growls.  
“Yeah, but that has nothing to do with his injuries,” Javier snorts. “That’s just because he’s an alcoholic.”  
“You better watch your mouth-” Bill grabs a fistful of Javier’s hair and nearly yanks him out of his seat.  
“Enough!” Hosea barks. Bill releases Javier immediately and the two sit back down. “I shouldn’t have said anything, we’re getting sidetracked” Hosea sighs, holding up a book. “Shakespeare-” Kids start grumbling and Hosea snaps, “I’m talking now! Now, there are several works in this book we’ll be going over this year. You will all come up and get a copy when we finally get started.” He looks at the clock and sighs. “Now, who can tell me why this book is titled An Oxford Anthology of Shakespeare?” Silence. “What does ‘Anthology’ mean?”  
Lenny is the only one who raises his hand, blurting out, “Anthology means a collection of work!”  
“Jesus, kid.” Bill scoffs beside him.  
“Correct,” Hosea smiles. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before, son. What’s your name?”  
“Lenny Summers.”  
“Ah,” Hosea smiles. “Well, everyone, Mr. Summers is absolutely correct. This year we will be going over the works in this book, ranging from Shakespeare's poems to sonnets and even some scenes of his play, which we will perform on this stage-” The second the words leave his mouth he can feel himself begin to groan.  
Bill gets out of his seat, grumbling, “Yeah, no, this isn’t happening.”  
“Here we go,” Javier sighs.  
“Bill, sit down,” Mary-Beth says.  
“We’re not starting off the year with a referral to the office, BIll, sit down,” Hosea says.  
“No,” Bill groans. “You ain’t making me get up on that stage and doin’ no actin’ shit!”  
“It’s a theatre class, Bill, what did you think we were going to be doing?” Hosea asks incredulously.  
“Told you,” Karen sneers at Molly, who rolls her eyes.  
“I don’t know,” Bill scoffs. “Maybe just fuck around like we do in every other one of your classes? I ain’t doing no stupid shit on that stage!”  
“See, you can say that all you want,” Hosea sighs. “But you’re embarrassing yourself a lot more right now causing a scene than you would just performing the scene I ask of you.”  
“Bill, please,” Mary-Beth pleads.  
“It’s not like you have much of a choice,” Hosea says. “I know you don’t plan on graduating, but regardless of that fact, the class is required and therefore the district will not let you drop it, so you may as well come sit down. We’re not performing anything right now, and you can be a baby about it when we do.” He gestures to Bill’s empty seat.  
Bill stands at the door for a few more seconds before slamming the door shut, grumbling as he returns to his seat. “Stupid faggy bullshit.” He says.  
“I didn’t hear that,” Hosea hums, turning to the rest of the class. “It’s not my fault the district requires a well-rounded education that includes fine arts and public speaking. It’s also not my fault that, despite being one of the loudest mouths in this room, you can’t handle that.”  
“Get fucked!” Bill growls.  
Hosea opens his mouth to continue pestering Bill but is interrupted when a student enters the auditorium from the side stage door. “Oh, for- Now what?” The student hands him a yellow slip of paper and Hosea sighs as he reads it. “Micah, Principal Milton wants to see you in his office.”  
“For what?” Micah smacks his lips as he gets up “I ain’t done anything.”  
“Your truck,” Javier says softly.  
Micah freezes, his face getting red with anger. “Oh, he better not have towed my truck.” He quickly stomps out of the room followed by the other student.  
“What happened to his truck?” Hosea asks warily.”  
“He’s not supposed to be parking on the property since he didn’t finish the community service project,” Arthur says. “His parking pass was revoked.”  
“Oh?” Hosea’s eyebrows raise as he turns to Javier. “Mr. Escuella-”  
“I still have mine,” Javier interrupts.  
Hosea nods. There is a beat of silence before he finally begins speaking again. “Well, we were supposed to start reading Shakespeare's 14th sonnet, but I’m afraid we’ve run out of time. Everyone take a copy of the book and review the 14th sonnet and give me your analysis on it, at least 8 sentences.” He glares in Bill’s direction as everyone starts getting out of their seats to collect a book. “Tomorrow, we won’t have quite as many interruptions.”  
Bill scoffs and heads towards the door without grabbing a book as the bell rings.


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re the only one with space in your car Arthur, come on!”  
“Goddamnit, no, Micah!” Arthur groans. “I ain’t giving you a ride home!” They are walking through the parking lot, now flooded with students as everyone starts heading home. “If you didn’t want your car towed, maybe you shouldn’t have parked here, like I told you this morning!”  
“Why don’t you just call your brother to come get you?” Javier asks from the next row of cars over as John, Lenny, Sean, and Bill all start getting in his car.  
“I ain’t calling my brother!” Micah scoffs. “Arthur, c’mon, you gotta help me.”  
“I don’t gotta help you.” Arthur snorts. “What I gotta do is get these two home,” He points towards Charles and Eagle Flies, leaning against his car and waiting patiently. “And that’s what I’m gonna do. See you tomorrow, Micah.”  
“How about this?” Micah says, pointing at Javier. “John rides with Arthur, I ride with you guys.”  
“No.” Javier says.  
“Why not?”  
“Besides the fact that I hate you?” Javier hums. “No reason.” He gets in the car and starts it, waving at Arthur as they pull away.  
Arthur throws a wave over his shoulder and unlocks the car, groaning as Micah nearly knocks Charles over as he gets in the passenger seat. Arthur looks at Charles apologetically as he gets in the back with Eagle Flies, who burns daggers into Micah from behind. “Micah, come on,” Arthur says. “Seriously. Get out.”  
“I ain’t walkin’ home!” Micah shakes his head. “Christ, Morgan, we live on the same street, just drop me off on your way home.”  
“It ain’t that I don’t wanna take you home cause you’re out of the way or something, I just don’t want to take you home cause I don’t like you.”  
“Apparently, no one here does,” Eagle Flies says. Charles says something to him but it is too soft for Arthur to hear.  
“Well, too bad for y’all.” Micah grunts. “Until I get my car back from impound, I’m gonna need some rides-”  
“You’re walking to school tomorrow, Micah.” Arthur says quickly. “Or asking your brother.” He starts the car and nearly jerks out of the spot as he starts driving towards Little Shenandoah.  
“I can’t ask my brother,” Micah groans. “If he finds out I lost the truck, he’s gonna tell my dad.”  
“Ain’t they gonna notice you don’t come home in the truck today?” Arthur asks.  
“Probably not,” Micah shrugs.  
“Well, how much is it gonna cost to get it out?”  
“I dunno, I gotta call the number Milton gave me when I get home and see where they even took my car.” Micah shrugs. “Hopefully it’s not too much; I don’t have that much stashed away.”  
“Well, don’t ask the gang for any money,” Arthur says. “We got our own shit to pay.”  
“I know,” Micah rolls his eyes. He turns his attention to his phone, allowing Arthur a moment of peace before he pulls into Charles’ driveway.  
“Welp,” Arthur says as Charles and Eagle Flies get out. “See you guys tomorrow.”  
“Bye,” Eagle Flies waves a bit.  
“Thanks for the ride,” Charles says softly to Arthur. “Same time tomorrow?”  
“Sure,” Arthur smiles and throws the car into reverse. When they’re out of the driveway, Micah says something to Arthur, but Charles is lucky enough to not hear it  
“That was fun,” Eagle Flies says brightly, following Charles.  
“It was alright,” Charles agrees as he opens the door, entering a small living room that smells heavily of cigarettes and patchouli incense.   
“Well, it’s gonna have to be more than alright.” Eagle Flies chuckles. “This was only the first day; we gotta do this for the rest of the year.”  
“I know,” Charles says, tossing his book bag by the closet and flopping down onto the couch. Eagle Flies settles for sitting cross-legged on the nearby ottoman as Charles grabs an incense stick off a shelf and lights it. “I think Arthur’s friends were the only problem.”  
“That Micah guy needs to watch his mouth.” Eagle Flies says after a brief pause, his smile fading into a scowl. “I wanna wring his neck.  
“I know,” Charles repeats as he opens a small wooden puzzle box on the coffee table, revealing a few spare cigarettes. Charles holds one out to Eagle Flies, who takes it and lights it. Charles lights his and leans back into the couch, placing his free hand behind his head.  
“So,” Eagle Flies bounces a bit, leaning forward. “Speaking of Arthur.”  
“What about him?” Charles snorts and takes a drag.  
“I met him.”  
“And what did you think?”  
“He’s nice.” Eagle Flies says. “I guess I see why you’ve got a crush on him.”  
“I never said I did.” Charles says.  
“No, I know,” Eagle Flies snorts. “But you’ve obviously hung out with him a lot and you like him enough that you moved schools to see him more.”  
“We just hang out while he’s at work sometimes.” Charles says.  
“So you’ve mentioned,” Eagle Flies chuckles. “Why’d you start talking to him? You normally keep to yourself off the reservation.”  
Charles shrugs. “I dunno, I don’t really remember.”  
“Well, good job coming out of your shell, I guess,” Eagle Flies laughs.  
“Don’t get too excited,” Charles snorts. “Today was an experiment.”  
“Experiment?” Eagle Flies snorts. “What the hell does that mean?”  
“I wanted to see if talking to Arthur’s friends would make me nervous,” Charles says. “And it did, kind of. I probably won’t say much to them.”  
“Well, they’ll be ready when you do.” Eagle Flies says. The front door makes a loud click as the knob turns and the boys rush to put their cigarettes out. Rains Fall peek around the doorframe as Charles tries to wave some of the smoke away.   
“Hey,” Eagle Flies says. Charles waves at him, but says nothing.  
“Hello, boys.” Rains Fall says. “I saw you get dropped off. Did you guys not get picked up?”  
“I don’t think Charles’ dad knows what time school lets out.” Eagle Flies says.  
“Is he not here?”  
“I haven’t seen him,” Eagle Flies says. Charles gets up and goes to the end of the hall, checking each room as he goes. He turns to Rains Fall and shakes his head. “Guess he’s not here.” Eagle Flies says. He sees his dad start to sniff the air. “He left a cigarette burning in the ashtray, though, so he couldn’t have been gone long.”  
“That man, I swear,” Rains Falls sighs. “No offence, Charles.” Charles shakes his head and shrugs. “Well, I guess it’s no bother.” Rains Fall waves his hand dismissively and seats himself in the large brown recliner in front of the boys as Charles returns to the couch. “I suppose I can ask you both, then. How was it?”  
“It was fun,” Eagle Flies grins.   
“Yeah?” Rains Fall looks at Charles “Did you enjoy yourself, too?”  
Charles nods.  
“I’m glad to hear it,” Rains Fall says. “Did you get along with the other kids?” He eyes his son.  
“Well, I almost got in a fight at lunch.”  
“Eagle Flies,” His father scolds.  
“But that kid, he started it, he said-”  
Rains Fall shakes his head. “I know, someone else said, or did, or looked. You are too quick to anger, Eagle Flies. It doesn’t matter what other people do, you have to control yourself.”  
Eagle Flies smacks his lips. “I understand,” He finally says, looking down at his lap.  
“What about you, Charles? Make any friends?” Rains Fall asks. A pause. “I saw someone drop you kids off.”  
“Arthur,” Eagle Flies says. “He and Charles hit it off pretty well, I guess.”  
“Yeah?” Rains Fall grins. “Good. I’m glad to hear you’re making friends.” There is a few seconds of awkward silence, Eagle Flies biting his lip, before Rains Fall speaks again. “What classes did they put you in, Charles?”  
Eagle Flies reaches for Charles’ phone to pull up the schedule. “Oh, he’s in-”  
“I asked Charles,” Rains Fall says.  
Eagle Flies winces. “Dad, you know he-”  
“He knows how to talk, Eagle Flies.” Rains Fall says.  
“But-”  
“Eagle Flies, he can’t only speak to two or three people.”  
“It’s not just two or three people,” Eagle Flies pouts.  
“Oh, so he just doesn’t talk on the reservation?” Rains Fall raises an eyebrow. “Was he a chatterbox at school today-?”  
Charles quickly clears his throat, holding up his phone to signal he’s holding his schedule. Rains Fall’s face lights up a bit as Charles begins reading, “Um… Math, homeroom, home ec, science, lunch, history, English, theatre, and study hall.” He drones softly like he’s on autopilot, and once he’s done, he quickly sets the phone down and bites the inside of his cheek.  
Rains Fall grins widely, setting a hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Good job, son.” He says. Charles nods, quickly getting up and heading into the kitchen for a moment.  
“Why would you do that?” Eagle Flies snaps once Charles is out of sight.  
“Do what?” Rains Fall asks.  
“You know exactly what,” Eagle Flies huffs.  
“I just explained it to you,” Rains Fall says. “He talks to you with no problem, but the second anyone else enters the room, he gets quiet. He can’t do that forever. It was cute when he was a child, but this is a growing problem the older he gets.”  
“You and his dad are the only ones having a problem with it.” Eagle Flies says. “There’s no problem.” Charles reenters the living room carrying a glass of juice as the front door opens again. Charles’ body stiffens when his father enters the room. “Hello, Mr. Smith.” Eagle Flies says.  
“Hey,” Mr. Smith raises an eyebrow. “Thought school didn’t let out ‘til 2:30?”  
“2:15,” Eagle Flies says casually. “Don’t worry, we got a ride from a friend.”  
“Hm,” Mr. Smith looks at Charles. “Already making friends, then?” Charles nods. “How was it?”  
“Good.” Eagle Flies says. “I almost fought a kid at lunch for calling us redskins, but Charles stopped me.”  
“Should’ve let him get a couple hits in,” Mr. Smith snorts, playfully punching Charles’ shoulder. Charles doesn’t laugh.  
“Don’t encourage that, please,” Rains Fall scolds softly. “Charles was right to stop the fight.” He pats Charles’ other shoulder. “The boys said you forgot to put out your cigarette. I suggest you be more careful next time.”  
“Ah, shit.” Mr. Smith groans. “Thank you, Charles.”  
Rains Fall places a hand on Eagle Flies’ shoulder. “Well, I should get Eagle Flies home, I’m sure he’ll want to tell a hundred more stories about today. See you two tomorrow.”  
“I’ll text you later.” Eagle Flies whispers as he passes Charles. Charles nods and the two leave.  
Mr. Smith looks Charles over like he’s going to say something, but doesn’t get the chance before Charles retreats to his room, the house settling into an uncomfortable silence.

  
2:18 AM  
Sean: I’m at the clubhouse if anyone wants to come smoke a bowl with me.  
Bill: No one is sneaking out to come smoke a bowl with you on a school night, dipshit.  
Sean: You know you do, big man.  
Bill: Well, I can’t sneak out tonight.  
Sean: Aw, you and your old man get into it?  
Mary-Beth: He’s just mad Bill still ain’t playing football this year.  
Javier: All you had to do is finish the community service hours, and it would’ve been fine.  
Bill: I. Have. Two. Jobs. I. Could. Not. If I gotta explain that one more time I’m gonna throw hands with someone.”  
Micah: I’m omw Sean, I wanna smoke some.”  
Sean: ...   
Sean: Naw I’m goin home.  
Micah: You little shit, I bought that weed!  
Arthur: Hey, does anyone care if I add Charles and Eagle Flies?  
Mary-Beth: Go ahead.  
Micah: Hang on.  
Arthur has added Charles Smith and Eagle Flies  
Micah: You mother fucker.  
Arthur: Shut up. I want them to be involved.  
Eagle Flies: ??  
Arthur: Tomorrow after school, we’re all meeting at the clubhouse for about an hour. We gotta find out more about Dutch. Sean, I’m trusting you to get the list Milton gave him. The one Hosea wrote all over.  
Sean: Got it.  
Arthur: Okay. Freshmen, try to get more information out of him during class. Try and focus on his time in Valentine. (Liked by 2 people)  
Arthur: Karen, did you talk to O’Driscoll today?”  
Karen: Yeah, he didn’t have much to say about Dutch, honestly.  
Arthur: Okay, Juniors, get Dutch talking about Evelyn Miller. See what he’s got to say. (Liked by 3 people)  
Abigail: And Sophomores?  
Arthur: We already know he’s got a problem with the way Milton does Senior thesis. Find out if he has more problems with Milton. (Liked by 3 people)  
Bill: And seniors?  
Arthur: We just sit back and wait till we get to the clubhouse to make a plan.


	9. Chapter 9

“What should I tell my dad?” Eagle Flies mumbles to Charles as they sit in the back of Arthur’s car, Micah once again hogging the shotgun seat.  
“Tell him the same thing I told mine,” Charles shrugs. “Checking out clubs or something.” Eagle Flies nods. “So where is the clubhouse?” He asks Arthur.  
“Neighborhood called The Pines,” Arthur says. “It’s not too far from the school. Honestly, you could walk there.” He sneers in Micah’s direction.  
“I ain’t walkin’ nowhere!” Micah growls. “Why can’t I just ride with you? I haven’t even said anything this whole ride and you want to start something!”  
“‘Cause I don’t like you!” Arthur says. “How many times do I gotta tell you that?”  
Charles and Eagle Flies look back and forth between the two like the sons of arguing parents, silent and unamused. When the car pulls into a gravel driveway in front of a single-story grey-blue shake-style house, Charles can see Javier through the front window, laughing at someone inside. Everyone exits the car just as Tilly pulls in behind them, the girls spilling out excitedly.  
“Did Sean get the list?” Arthur asks Karen.  
Karen nods. “Snuck into the room and got it after last period.”  
“Good,” Arthur nods as everyone heads inside.  
The house smells off, but not exactly awful; a strange mix of cigarettes, weed, and motor oil. It smelled more like a garage than a house. There are bean bag chairs and milk crates sat in a circle formation in the middle of the living room around a low table with a glass surface. On the table are 3 or 4 ashtrays, many packs of cigarettes, and a few old bottles of beer. The gang members pass around various packs of cigarettes and trade lighters, the room quickly filling with smoke.  
“Sean-” Arthur starts.  
“Hosea tried to warn him I steal stuff!” Sean squeals, holding the list above his head.  
“Really?” Arthur snorts as he joins the circle. Charles and Eagle Flies quickly sit on either side of him, Eagle Flies in a bean bag chair and Charles on the floor. “Well, didn’t do him much good, did it?”  
“I was telling them, he probably has a copy of the list,” Lenny says. “If he knew it could get taken, he wouldn’t have let it go easily.”  
“Maybe,” Arthur says. “But that’s not important right now.” He holds his hand out. “Give it.”  
Sean passes the list over just as a lighter comes to him. He lights his cigarette and holds the lighter out to Eagle Flies. “You guys wanna smoke?”  
“Sure,” Eagle Flies takes the lighter. “Who’s got some cigarettes to spare?”  
“I got you, hang on,” Javier says, reaching into his pocket and throwing the pack to him. Bill makes a noise in his throat, like he’s holding back a laugh, and Javier raises an eyebrow at him. “What?” He whispers.  
“Nothin’,” Bill snickers.  
“He’s laughing at this,” Eagle Flies holds up the cigarette pack, the back consisting of a logo of a cliche’ Native American chief.  
Javier isn’t sure how to respond other than a wince and a quick inhale. “Oh, jeez-” He starts.  
“It’s fine,” Eagle Flies says. “My dad buys the same ones ‘cause he thinks it’s funny to see the cashier’s face.”  
Javier snorts, relieved he hadn’t offended the boy. “Okay.” When Eagle Flies hands Charles a cigarette and lights his own, he passes the pack back to Javier. “So,” Javier says, facing Arthur. “What’s happening here?”  
“What?” Arthur asks.  
Javier gestures to Eagle Flies and Charles. “When have we ever invited new people to the clubhouse the second day of school.”  
Arthur shrugs. “I dunno. I guess we’re gonna call them uh- What did you say you was, Lenny?”  
“Prospect?”  
“There we go! They’re prospects.”  
“We didn’t vote on that,” Bill says. Micah nods in agreement, holding up his cigarette.  
“Are you being serious right now?” Arthur scoffs.  
“We had to vote on Lenny and Mary-Beth,” Javier says. “Mac and Davey made us vote on the girls before they left.”  
“We didn’t vote for Micah,” Arthur defends. “Or Sean, for that matter.”  
“Well, that don’t mean-” Bill starts.  
“Hey,” Eagle Flies interrupts, raising his hand. “It’s okay, we’ll go in the other room or something, you guys do what you need to do.” He pats Charles’ shoulder and the two get up and head into the kitchen, just around the corner and out of sight.  
“Okay,” Arthur says. “Let’s take a stupid vote.”  
“Hey, you’re the one who said big decisions like that have to come to a vote,” Bill says.  
“Yeah I know I said that, but they’re already here,” Arthur says. “No point causing a scene about t if they’re already here.”  
“Well, maybe ya shouldn’t have brought them, then,” Micah says. “Do they even have a case?”  
“Of course they do,” Arthur says. “Look, Milton only knows about the ones who were involved in the spray paint incident. He doesn’t know about our prospects like Lenny or Mary-Beth, and that gives us an advantage. The more people we have that they don’t know about, the better.”  
“But what would they even do?” Bill says. “They don’t have connections or reputations here, they can’t really gain any footing.”  
“What would Lenny and Mary-Beth do?” Arthur defends.  
“Mary-Beth’s gonna work in the office during her study hall,” Karen says. “Try to get close to Milton and see what he’s got planned for us. Surely the community service project isn’t all he had in store for us.”  
“Especially since not everyone completed it.” Sean nods towards Bill and Micah.  
“I was going to sell homework and test answers,” Lenny says. “Have Molly tell some of her old cheerleader friends I could give them some help.”  
“We’ll find more jobs as school gets back in session, it’s only the second day, there ain’t a lot of supply and demand going on,” Arthur says. “For now, I want them in the wings for when we need them.”  
Everyone looks at each other skeptically until Javier says, “Okay, all in favor of prospecting the Indians.” Several hands start going up- “Lenny, Mary-Beth, you don’t get to vote since you’re also prospects.”  
Arthur counts himself, Javier, John, Karen, Sean, and Abigail. “Majority,” He announces. Bill groans. “It’s 6 to 4 Bill, don’t start that shit.”  
“Let the freshmen vote,” Bill says.  
“I would’ve voted to keep them,” Mary-Beth says. Lenny nods in agreement.  
“Wouldn’t have done you shit,” Arthur tells Bill. “They’re staying.”  
“I get Bill and Micah,” Karen looks at Tilly and Molly. “But why did you say no?”  
“I think we already have enough people.” Tilly shrugs. “No point bringing more people into our mess.”  
“I just don’t think they should be here,” Molly shrugs. “They’re so new to Blackwater, they don’t know how stuff works around here.”  
“This will give them a crash course.” Arthur says “We’ll be here to protect them while they figure shit out around here, and they can make some new friends without much work.”  
“Y’all can come back,” John calls into the kitchen. Charles and Eagle Flies emerge, the latter eating a bag of potato chips. “You found the snacks, I see.” John jokes.  
“Yeah,” Eagle Flies says. “That okay?”  
“Yeh, help yourselves to anything in there,” Arthur says. “You’re one of us now.”  
“Cool, we’re staying?” Eagle Flies returns to his seat, Charles on the floor next to Arthur. “So what, we’re like trainees now or something?”  
“Kind of like interns,” Arthur says. “You don’t make any calls about the gang unless we say it’s okay. Since teachers won’t know you’re in the gang- as long as we play our cards right, at least- you guys may be able to run favors for us that we can’t do without getting caught.”  
“Like what?”  
“Well,” Karen says. “When Sean prospected for us, he helped us sneak into football games.”  
“Oh, shit.” Javier laughs. “I almost forgot about football games.”  
“What’s so special about football games?” Eagle Flies cocks his head curiously.  
“Well, we used to go watch Bill and Davey play,” Arthur says. “But I guess all we’d do now is go pickpocket kids; make some extra money.”  
“Extra money?” Charles blurts, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you all had jobs?”  
“Yeah,” Sean says. “Jobs that pay fuck all when half of us are the ones working to feed our families.”  
“Not to mention pitching in to keep utilities on here,” Bill says.  
“And phone bills and car payments,” Molly says.  
“And a baby on the way,” Abigail drones.  
“When some of us are only living on tips right now,” Tilly says.  
“....Yikes,” Eagle Flies says after a pause. He snorts and returns to his bag of chips, now half-empty.  
“Pickpocketing is just one side-job,” Arthur says. “We also sold a bunch of test answers and homework last year right before finals. Our more intimidating members-” Here he gestures to Bill and himself. “Act as protection for middle schoolers or freshmen who are bullied.”  
“You guys have a whole enterprise around this,” Eagle says, almost in disbelief.  
“We got a lot to pay for,” Arthur snorts. “And that ain’t counting surprise fees, like Micah’s truck sitting in impound.”  
“It’s gonna keep racking up money ‘til I get it out, too,” Micah sneers. “Each day adds like $75 to it.”  
“Holy shit, are you serious?” Bill scoffs. “That’s so stupid.”  
“Shouldn’t have parked in the lot,” Arthur shrugs.  
“Okay, it’s 3,” Javier announces. “Anyone who’s got work today has to be gone in an hour, let’s focus on Dutch and not fight about Micah being stupid.”  
“Hey-”  
“Right,” Arthur nods, holding up the list before shoving it in his bookbag. “I’mma send a picture of that later tonight, everyone check it out when you get a chance.”  
“Yay, homework,” Sean says sarcastically.  
“Shut up.” Arthur snorts. “Freshmen, what’d you learn about Valentine?”  
“So,” Lenny starts. “Dutch only taught there for about 4 years, but he did his student teaching somewhere in Pennsylvania. He’s been teaching exclusively high school English and was fired from Valentine’s schools after proposing a unit on Evelyn Miller.”  
“He said he thinks high schoolers are mature enough to make their own decisions about the government, and that he is just exposing facts society is too scared to expose themselves,” Mary-Beth adds. “He also said he wants to do a lesson on Miller for extra credit, as long as no one tells Milton.”  
Arthur nods. “Sophomores, what did Dutch say about Milton?”  
Tilly snorts. “That it’s only the second day and he’s ready to pull his hair out. Milton stopped by his classroom at the end of the day yesterday and before first period today.”  
“To talk about what?” Javier asks.  
“Yesterday it was us,” Tilly says. “Making sure we all behaved, but today it was the senior thesis.”  
“Oh?” Arthur blinks. “He shutting down the project?”  
“Not really shutting it down,” Tilly says. “But he did say if we wanted to do our own topics, they’d have to be approved by him and Mr. Ross first.”  
“Dutch is furious,” Abigail says. “Said that Milton can go fuck himself and the kids can do whatever they want.”  
“Yeah, ‘control is not comfort’ or whatever the hell he said,” Sean snorts.  
“It’s a Miller quote,” Lenny says. “I don’t remember the whole thing, but it goes like, ‘Control is not comfort, and comfort is only established when the repressed take control,’ or somethin.”  
“So this guy’s got a lot of Miller’s ideology in his head,” Arthur says. “Juniors, you guys have anything to add to that? What’d he say about Miller?”  
“Dutch completely idolizes him,” Micah says. “Said he has a lot to teach youth in this country and it’s a shame most educators don’t take the opportunity to let their kids learn how to take control of their lives. Said most people only view MIller as a man who writes about anarchy and rebellion and teen violence.”  
“Called the man a revolutionary genius,” John says. “Just like Cornwall did.”  
“You think Dutch is really gonna be on our side?” Bill asks.  
“I guess we’ll see,” Arthur says. “For now, see how much he’s willing to go against Milton, push boundaries and see what goes unchecked. We’ll revisit this some other time.”  
“Okay,” Javier stands up, checking his phone. “Who’s stayin’ and who’s goin’?”  
“I’m gonna take Charles and Eagle Flies home,” Arthur says. “Unless they wanna hang out and smoke some weed with us?”  
“We should get back.” Eagle Flies says.  
“Okay, Micah?”  
“I’mma stay here and smoke some,” Micah says. “Go home later tonight.”  
“I’ll go home with you,” John says to Arthur, getting up.  
“I’ll go with Javier,” Lenny says, getting up.  
“Sean?” Javier looks at the Irishman.  
“I’mma stay here,” Sean says.  
“Me too,” Karen says.  
“I’ll take the girls,” Tilly says.  
“Alright,” Arthur says, smacking the table. “Meeting adjourned.”   
“Don’t forget that list,” Javier says as everyone scrambles outside and gets in their cars. Charles quickly gets in the passenger seat, causing John to sit in the back with Eagle Flies.  
“I won’t!” Arthur calls, getting in the driver seat. Everyone begins moving their cars to let others out of the driveway and soon the driveway is empty.  
Micah turns to Sean, who is already getting out a clouded blue bong from a hidden compartment under the table. “So-”  
“Ah,” Karen says. “We’re heading to the garage, you’re here on your own.”


	10. The List

**Sophomores: More auxiliary than** **enforcer**  
Tilly Jackson: Sweet girl, not really a troublemaker. Loves to talk and is often used as a distraction. If she’s trying to hold a long conversation with you, there may be something happening with the more rambunctious members elsewhere. Good friends with Karen Jones and drives the girls to and from school. She lives with her uncle after her mother died in a car accident three years ago. Ran track last year.

Sean MacGuire: Probably your biggest problem. He’s loud and enjoys talking back, acts out for attention and rarely fears consequences. You will be at your wit’s end with him by the end of the first week. Loves aggravating other gang members and picking on their insecurities, so beware of some confrontations between them. Usually seen being inappropriate with Karen Jones in the hallway. Can be a kleptomaniac, beware of all valuables at all times.

Abigail Roberts: Currently pregnant with John Marston’s child, due in February. A thief, but overall a good kid. She keeps tabs on John, so warn her if he starts causing problems and she’ll straighten him out. Usually found in Mrs. Grimshaw’s Home Ec lab during free periods, making treats for the class. The sooner in the day you have her, the much better mood she’ll be in, towards the end of the day she is grumpy.  


**Juniors: Enforcers, the front line of trouble**

Micah Bell III: Similar to Sean, a big problem. Also constantly ragging on the gang without fear of consequences. Constantly acts out in class and enjoys discussions where he can manipulate people into seeming like the bad guy. Known for making racist or sexist remarks to other students and even teachers. Can be found with his own posse of underclassmen in the halls, but these kids are usually scapegoats for Micah’s misdoings and are not related to the gang in any way. Other members of the gang don’t like him- except for Bill sometimes- and I’m not sure why he was recruited to begin with. You’ll also find him eating in class a lot. He has a hostile relationship with his father and older brother, rarely does anything bad enough to warrant a call home.

Karen Jones: Skips classes often, make sure to report every time she is not in class to avoid this. Seen being inappropriate with Sean in the hallways and gets dress-coded at least twice a week for revealing clothing. Good friends with Tilly and Abigail. Has an ongoing problem with Molly O’Shea. She’s the only female member of the gang who usually brawls and has been suspended for bringing alcohol on school property. Works late hours on weekends so she won’t do much homework (If any). Skips school every Thursday for unknown reasons, truant officers haven’t been able to do anything about it for years. Played volleyball her freshman year but hasn’t played since.

John Marston: Father of Abigail’s unborn child. Good friends with Javier Escuella and Arthur Morgan, regularly fights with Micah. He writes a lot during class, says he’s working on a big project. Try to deter him from writing in class, but encourage his work, he seems in a much better mood when he writes. Abigail can straighten him out if he acts too out of line, but he rarely gets that bad. Played baseball last year because Javier talked him into it and was in a writing club his freshman year with Arthur and Mac Callandar.  


 **Seniors: Leaders of the gang, the ones who have just about nothing to lose.**  
Javier Escuella: Nearly a straight-A student, although he doesn’t act like it. He’s played baseball for the district since he enrolled in middle school but is not permitted to play this year. I expect this loss of activity will cause him to lose his temper more easily. Normally mouths off in class, sometimes growling and biting students. I find it best to not call attention to any of this in class, but send him to Milton for discipline, as being talked to in a public setting only causes him to act out more. Good friends with John, almost always seen together outside of class. Drives Bill, Sean, and John to and from school most days.

Arthur Morgan: Can be bright at times, usually seen ignoring instructions and doing things his own way. You’ll also find him drawing during class. Encourage him to keep drawing- Do not tell him if you looked at his drawings but tell him not to do it during class. He has a new friend, Charles Smith, who is in one of your classes. Arthur will be on his best behavior for a while because of this. He has minor test anxiety, allow him to take tests a second time if he seems distracted or fidgety during the first one. Estranged relationship with his father, try to not to involve Milton in punishing him or Milton will use that to his advantage.

Molly O’Shea: Rarely does her own work, cross-reference with other members of Callander’s gang to find out who is doing her homework for her. Doesn’t seem to like the other girls or any of the boys for that matter. Not sure how she fell in with this group, or why they’ve kept her this long. Not much to say about her, she doesn’t cause much trouble.

  
 ~~Marion~~ Bill Williamson: Played football throughout high school but is not permitted to this year. He seems void of purpose because of this, see if you can wake him up somehow. Not the smartest in the group, doesn’t do work unless working with a partner; threats to contact his father normally keep him in passing range. Good luck getting him to do his senior thesis speech, he refuses to talk in front of the class in a professional setting. Possibly has stage fright.


	11. Chapter 11

The next two weeks went by quietly; the gang laid low while Mary-Beth convinced Principal Milton that she wanted an opportunity to prove she was not her brother. Milton gave her a secretary job in the office during her study hall period, saying she’d be removed from the position if there was any funny business. She hasn’t reported anything yet, but Arthur has faith she’ll have something for them soon.

There still weren’t many jobs for Eagle Flies and Charles to do, and Charles preferred it that way even if Eagle Flies was getting restless. He wasn’t here for the gang, he was here for Arthur. He came to this school to broaden his horizons and improve his chances of getting out of Little Shenandoah, sure, but he was mainly here to spend more time with Arthur.

The four prospects spent most days after school at the library across the street from Arthur’s coffee shop. Eagle Flies spent most of his time there harassing Mary-Beth and Lenny while they worked, trying to absorb as much as he could about the gang, while Charles just enjoyed the silence. The library was one of Charles’ favorite places because he could sit at a table hidden from view behind a wall of books and no one but Eagle Flies would ever bother him. It was an introvert’s dream come true.

When Arthur texts Charles that he’s taking a smoke break, Charles props open a fire escape door and slips out to avoid Eagle Flies’ detection. He goes across the street to be alone with Arthur, even if it was just a few minutes, and Arthur smiles when Charles comes into view. “Hey,” He says.

“Hey,” Charles says as Arthur smiles, holding out a coffee to him. Charles takes it and takes a drink; caramel this time, a nice touch. 

“You excited for tomorrow?” Arthur asks, leaning against his car and taking out a cigarette.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“First football game of the season,” Arthur says. “There’s normally a huge party afterwards. We’re gonna find it and crash it.”

“Oh, uh…” Charles grunts. “I’ll have to ask my dad.”

“Why?” Arthur snorts. “It’s Friday night, just tell him you’re going to the game.”

“Yeah, no,” Charles chuckles awkwardly. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Well, just see what he says. Tell him you’re making friends.” Arthur says.

Charles nods absently to placate Arthur, wondering what to tell him tomorrow night when Arthur asks about the game again. Should Charles lie and say his dad said no? That Eagle Flies’ dad said no? Should he say he felt sick? A headache, maybe?

“I gotta get back in there.” Arthur gently pats Charles’ shoulder and flicks his cigarette away before heading inside.

Charles smiles at him and sneaks back through the fire exit, sitting at his table. In front of him, still undisturbed, is a book about drawing. Charles loves watching Arthur draw the world around them, but he has never been good at drawing. His mother tried to teach him, long ago, but he was always too awkward with his hands, couldn’t hold pens or pencils gracefully like she could, as Arthur can. He was trying again today, staring at a chapter about flowers. Charles likes flowers. Every spring he plans what he’s going to do with the two small gardens on either side of his front steps. This year, he planted purple pulmonaria and they were almost done blooming now that fall was right around the corner.

“And where have you been?” Eagle Flies startles Charles, nearly causing him to drop his coffee “Ooo, what flavor is that?” He reaches for the cup.

“It’s caramel.” Charles grunts.

“Ew.” Eagle Flies retracts his arm, snickering. He looks over Charles’ shoulder at the book and his laugh slowly dies down, his face reflecting a melancholy expression. “What’s that for?”

“I’m trying to draw them for Arthur,” Charles says. “Just some stupid sketch, I guess.” He shrugs.

“Those are Himilayin poppies, right?”

“Yeah.”

Eagle Flies nods and sits next to Charles, still looking at the flowers on the page. “So what’d you and Arthur talk about?” He asks.

“Nothing really,” Charles shrugs. “Football game tomorrow night.”

“He mention the party to you?”

Charles nods. “Yeah.”

“Are we gonna go?”

Charles is quiet for a few seconds, focusing on the drawing. He’s messed up a petal somewhere and now the flower is off-center; he frowns "I dunno.” He finally says.

“We don’t have to,” Eagle Flies says. “I can tell Arthur my dad said no.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Charles nods. He gets out a new sheet of paper and starts the flower again.

“It might be fun, though.” Eagle Flies says hopefully, watching Charles’ hand as it clunkily scans the paper. “Going to a party with friends, trying to sneak back in the house late at night while we’re a little drunk. Just like normal kids.

“But there’s gonna be more people there than just us,” Charles says. “Arthur said we’re crashing the party, meaning the party is probably full without us.”

“So?” Eagle Flies snorts. “You don’t have to talk to anyone. Just have a drink or two with Arthur then sneak off somewhere to fool around.”

Charles snorts. “Sure.” He says. He messed up the picture somewhere again. The petals are all different sizes. He sighs and keeps going, hoping it’ll still end up okay.

“I’m serious.” Eagle Flies says. “Just have fun.” He smiles a bit when he gets up. “Not too bad.” He says when he looks at Charles’ flower before walking away.

Charles smiles a bit and quickly folds up the paper, shoving it into his bookbag.

7:03 PM

Arthur: Okay @Sean, what do you know?

Sean: Party is at Aaron Durk’s house, I’ll send the address later in a sec. Party is from 10-1, but last time he had a party, cops showed up about midnight, so we’ll probably split at 11 so we don’t get caught. Is everyone going?

John: Abigail and I are staying home.

Tilly: So am I.

Mary-Beth: I’m not coming.

Eagle Flies: @Arthur Charles and I will be there.

Arthur: Great. @Javier, you drive Bill, Micah, Lenny, and Sean. I’ll take Charles and Eagle Flies. @Molly, you drive Karen.

Molly: No.

Javier: Micah lives on your street, why can’t he ride with you?

Arthur: I swear, you people forget Micah called them redskins a few weeks ago.

Lenny: And he calls me and Javier names too. Why would he ride with us?

Bill: Morgan, Micah and I can ride with you and Charles and EF can ride with Javier and Lenny.

Arthur: Fine. I want to take them home, though, you guys will have to put up with Micah and Bill.

Micah: I. Live. Right. On. Your. Street. Why. Would. I. Take. Another. Ride. Home?

Arthur: Maybe. Cause. I. Don’t. Like. You.

Karen: I’ll just walk to the party, I ain’t riding in Molly’s car.

Molly: Agreed. I remember last year’s party. You threw up in Tilly’s van.

Arthur: I’ll drive Karen too. I ain’t making her walk halfway across Blackwater.

Karen: <3

Arthur: We’re all meeting at the victory bell at 7:15. Lenny, you’re gonna buy a ticket at 6:45 and let us in during the first quarter. Think you can handle that?

Lenny: Yep.

Arthur: great. See everyone tomorrow.

“So.” Eagle Flies says as he sits on the ottoman in Charles’ living room, plate in hand. Charles and his father sit on the couch while Rains Fall sits in the chair, all facing the tv, now playing some complicated medical commercial instead of the game show they had been watching. “Our school’s football season starts tomorrow.”

“Oh, are you guys going to the game?” Rains Fall blinks, suddenly turning to his son.

“That’s what we wanted to ask,” Eagle Flies says, nodding towards Charles, who nods back. “Is it okay if we go?”

“By yourselves?” Mr. Smith raises an eyebrow.

“No, not by ourselves,” Eagle Flies shakes his head. “We’re going with some friends.”

“Oh, you’re making friends now?” Mr. Smith asks

“What, you haven’t seen that boy taking them to and from school every day?” Rains Fall asks. “It’s been the same boy each day.”

“His name’s Arthur,” Eagle Flies says. Charles narrows his eyes, trying to keep the boy quiet, but he keeps going. “Him and Charles have a few classes together.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mr. Smith eyes Charles, who nods innocently. “Is he taking you to the game tomorrow?”

“No, one of Arthur’s friends is picking us up,” Eagle Flies says. “We’re meeting Arthur there when he gets off work.”

“I’m glad you’re making friends,” Rains Fall smiles at Charles and Eagle Flies.

“Can’t see why anyone would make friends with these two.” Mr. Smith says. “One of ‘em don’t talk and the other one won’t shut up.” He snorts; it’s meant as a joke, but when Rains Fall sighs and Charles gets up, leaving his plate half-finished on the couch, it’s obvious he’s the only one who found it funny. “Charles, hey!” He sighs as Eagle Flies gets up and chases after Charles. “I was kidding!”

Eagle Flies slips into the room just before Charles shuts the door. The lock clicking quietly into place. “Bastard,” Eagle Flies says.

Charles grunts softly, flopping down on to the bed. He can hear his father and Rains Fall down the hall bickering at each other before the front door opens. 

Eagle Flies peeks out of the bedroom window to find his father standing at the end of the driveway. When Rain Fall sees Eagle Flies peeking from behind the tapestry, he looks pointedly at the streetlight before turning around and heading home. “You know,” Eagle Flies says as he leans away from the window, leaning against Charles’ bed. “I don’t understand why he has to constantly bring it up. If he wants to try to get you to talk, why keep pointing out the fact you can’t?”

Charles nods and sighs, reaching for his book bag and pulling out the sketch of the flower. He hadn’t even thought about it, but when he folded it up and put it in his bag, the pencil smeared together and caused a strange shaded pattern, and not one Charles could accept. He sighs again, louder and angrier before he balls up the paper and throws it at the wall. The air resistance catches it and it gently hits the door with a  _ bap _ before falling to the floor.

Eagle Flies frowns. “Want me to leave you alone?” He asks softly. Charles shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak, closing it again and flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. “...What are we gonna do about tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” Charles says after a few seconds of silence, his thoughts gathering themselves finally.

“We can just say we’re staying after school for a club or something, then no one will have to see your dad.” Eagle Flies says.

“He’ll start asking about the club,” Charles says.

“We’ll make something up,” Eagle Flies says. “Say you’re in the Art Club, that’ll explain why you’re drawing again. Explains why you and Arthur are so close.” Charles shrugs again and Eagle Flies shrugs back. “They’re gonna cross paths eventually, Charles, you can’t protect Arthur from your dad.”

“I know,” Charles sighs.

“I know, you’re worried your dad’s gonna embarrass you. It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m just worried if he meets my dad I’m going to have to explain all this,” Charles says, gesturing to himself.

“I mean, it can’t be that hard to just say, ‘Hey, by the way, I have selective mutism and can’t speak if my dad’s in the same room as me’.”

“You can tell you’ve never had any kind of medical condition,” Charles snorts. “It’s not easy at all, actually.”

“I mean, he should understand just fine,” Eagle Flies says. “That list Van Der Linde had said Arthur has test anxiety, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“Why?” Eagle Flies says. “I mean, he didn’t have to explain that to you, did he? Dutch read that and you two just continued like nothing had happened.”

“I guess not,” Charles shrugs. His phone buzzes and he sees it’s Javier.

Javier: Hey, what’s your address?

Charles: 94 Alpine. You can get Eagle Flies from there too.”

Javier: Cool. Should I ask if I’m gonna have to do the ‘Awkward parent talk’ thing?

Charles: Yeah, you probably will. Sorry :/

Javier: No problem. Should I mention anything specific? Classes, clubs?

Charles: Naw, I told my dad you’re just one of Arthur’s friends.

Javier: Neat. I gotta have that same talk with Lenny’s parents and that’s a bit trickier. Got any ideas how a freshman would know a senior?

Charles: Not really.

Javier: I’ll figure it out. See you tomorrow.

“Streetlights are on,” Eagle Flies says, looking out the window again. “I’m gonna get going. See you later.” He opens the window and starts climbing out.

“See ya.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope everyone is staying safe in these uncertain times. Sorry it's been a while since I updated, I lost my job because of the COVID pandemic and I normally write while I'm at work so finding my proper train of thought has been complicated the past few weeks. I ended up making this chapter super long, so I'm splitting it up and giving you the first part while I edit the second part. Stay inside and stay safe everyone, and we'll get through this together <3

Blackwater Township’s pride and joy has always been football. For the last 7 years, Blackwater has had one of the top three football teams in the region and has played in the championship every year. Most of the district’s funding goes towards sports, like nearly every other high school in America, and football is the king of the castle. Milton strives to have the highest morale among students, having “Spirit Weeks” throughout the season. The Spirit weeks double as fundraisers, with each day having a theme (Hat day, Pj day, twin day, etc) and a price to pay to be included in the festivities. This goes towards new uniforms, more equipment, and longer time on the field for practice. Last year, Blackwater made it all the way to the championship game against Saint Denis and lost by one mere touchdown, going home without a trophy. Milton would not accept this and said this year would be different.  
With the early-September weather finally rolling in, Hosea and Grimshaw now have to wear heavier jackets when smoking in the teacher’s lot in the morning. The dew on the grass reflects the bright lights of the nearby football stadium, running an equipment check before the game tonight. In about 12 hours, nearly the entirety of Blackwater Township will be perched on the stands under the large “GO COWBOYS” banner written in green and white block letters, while tonight’s contenders- The Annesburg Coalminers- would have maybe 60 to 100 people sitting on the small set of stands across from the home team’s side. Annesburg almost beat the Cowboys last year, and with the loss of both Bill and Davey, the coaches were scared Annesburg could finish what they started before.  
“You think we’re gonna win?” Grimshaw asks.  
“Not a chance.” Hosea shrugs. “But the kids will still get to see the game.”  
“Well, good morning!” Dutch calls when he gets out of his car. “Finally got here in time to see you two.”  
“Good morning, Mr. Van Der Linde,” Grimshaw smiles. She hadn’t seen much of Dutch these recent weeks since he normally comes to work mere minutes before the starting bell rings; she is already inside by the time he arrives.  
Hosea hadn’t seen Dutch much either, aside from passing him in the hallways between periods sometimes, and he was just as excited to see Dutch. “You coming to the game tonight?” Hosea asks, gesturing to the football field behind them.  
“I’m not much of a sportsman, Mr. Matthews, but I’ll happily go if you’ll accompany me,” Dutch grins. Hosea would like to blame the chilly air for the sudden color on his cheeks, but he cannot think straight enough to voice it, even in his head.  
“How’s the Callander gang treatin’ ya?” Grimshaw asks, taking attention off the older man.  
“Oh, they’re great.” Dutch smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Very curious kids, all they like to do is ask questions.”  
“Oh, I bet,” Grimshaw smiles. “But they haven’t stirred up any trouble?”  
“None,” Dutch assures her. “Apart from the occasional squabbling with each other during class.” He turns his attention to Hosea. “Thank you for the heads up about Mr. MacGuire, by the way. Made a copy of that list you gave me and my original went missing not even an hour later.”  
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Hosea snorts. “He steals just about anything he can get his hands on, doesn’t even matter if he wants it or not. And they wanted that list.”  
“No doubt,” Dutch chuckles. “Got under enough skin that first day.”  
“Surprised all they took was the list,” Grimshaw says. “They normally take other things, valuables, and try to ransom them back for grades or the like.”  
“Really?” Dutch raises his eyebrows. “That’s a new one.”  
“Well, remember,” Hosea says. “Mac and Davey aren’t in charge anymore, it’s Arthur. He never believed in doing evil things like that, he just wanted to be a mild nuisance.”  
“He’s been my best-behaved one,” Dutch chuckles. “He talks back from time to time, but that’s it.”  
“He’s much friendlier than some of his counterparts,” Hosea nods. “Rarely causes a fuss by himself-” His attention is suddenly drawn over Dutch’s shoulder, where a dark blue car pulls into a spot. Hosea’s eyes light up in realization. “Josiah!”  
“Hosea!” A man Dutch hasn’t seen before steps out of the car with record speed and hugs Hosea, throwing a small wave to Grimshaw, who rolls her eyes with a smile and waves back. “How are you, old friend?”  
“Doing well,” Hosea smiles. “Josiah, have you met Dutch yet?”  
“I have not,” The man grins at Dutch, holding out his hand. “Josiah Trelawny.”  
“Dutch Van Der Linde,” Dutch shakes his hand.  
“Dutch is Cornwall’s replacement,” Hosea tells Trelawny. “Kids have already taken a liking to him.”  
“That’s wonderful,” Trelawny smiles. “I’m a substitute for the district, so I only come around once in a while.”  
“Speaking of which,” Grimshaw says. “Who’s class are you taking over today?”  
“It appears Orville called in sick from today until Tuesday,” Trelawny says. “Poor man.”  
“He has a problem,” Grimshaw shakes her head with a sigh.  
“At least he stays away from the children when he relapses,” Hosea sighs with her. “He’s not putting anyone in danger.”  
“What’s going on?” Dutch raises an eyebrow.  
“Mr. Swanson always claims he has a cold and will disappear for nearly a week, if not longer,” Hosea says. “Really the man has just suffered a relapse.”  
“Of what?” Dutch gasps.  
“Morphine,” Grimshaw says. “Nasty stuff.”  
“Seriously?” Dutch gasps again. “And Milton lets him keep his job?”  
“Milton pretends he doesn’t know so he doesn’t have to fire Swanson,” Hosea says. “Same with teachers like O’Driscoll, who is a raging alcoholic.”  
“And Uncle,” Grimshaw nods.  
“Who?”  
“Oh, you haven’t met Uncle yet?” Hosea snickers. “The study hall teacher. The kids call him Uncle, and the name stuck a few years back.”  
“Huh,” Dutch scoffs, chuckling. “Well, that’s something.”  
“The kids will just have to accept me on their turf while Orville is recovering,” Trelawny nods.  
“Oh, the kids love you, Josiah,” Hosea says. “They know when you’re here, someone’s getting out of doing work for a few days.”  
“I’m taking over a common core class this time, not an elective,” Trelawny nods. “I’ll have every student in my class at some point today, not just a dozen or so.”  
Hosea snorts and flicks his cigarette away. Dutch and Grimshaw do the same and the group begins walking inside.

“Is that Mr. Trelawny’s car?” Karen gasps as the girls pull into the parking lot, pointing towards the car.  
“It is." Tilly grins. “Wonder who he’s taking over for this time.”  
“Hopefully Strauss,” Abigail says. “I don’t want to take that test today.”  
“You can tell we have a sub just by the car?” Mary-Beth snorts incredulously. “And who it is?”  
“Yeah,” Karen snorts. “We only have 2 or 3 substitutes in the district, and Trelawny’s the only one with a blue car, so that’s gotta be him.”  
When Tilly pulls into her parking spot, Sean is already prying open the sliding back door and crawling inside, nearly falling in Karen’s lap. “Trelawny’s here for Swanson,” He says.  
“Shit,” Abigail groans.  
“Wow,” Karen laughs. “Didn’t think we’d see him this early in the year, last year he wasn’t here until at least October. Has anyone seen him yet?”  
“Arthur’s checking it out now,” Sean says.  
Inside the school, Arthur waits in front of the history classroom door for the familiar sound of Trelawny’s voice down the hall, greeting anyone who greets him first. When Arthur sees him speaking to Grimshaw in front of her classroom at the other end of the hall, he opens his mouth to call out to him across the sea of students but is interrupted by another familiar voice.  
“Good morning, Mr. Morgan.”  
“Mr. O’Driscoll,” Arthur sighs and turns to the man, who today smells like an ashtray and nothing else.  
“Staying out of trouble, hm?”  
“What do you want, Colm?” Arthur snaps.  
“Easy boy, I’m just asking a question,” Colm sneers. “We’re nearly 20 days into the year and not a single one of your boys have been suspended yet. No one’s even been sent to the office. Planning something?”  
“No.”  
“Not even for tonight? First football game.” Colm hums. “Not protesting for Williamson or nothin’?”  
“Nope.”  
“No house party afterwards-?”  
“Arthur, my boy!” Trelawny claps a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “How are you today?”  
“Doin’ good, sir,” Arthur doesn’t protest when Trelawny starts pulling Arthur to the classroom door, unlocking it and ushering the boy in.  
“Now hang on a minute, Jojo,” Colm says. “We’re talking-”  
“Well, you’re done now.” Trelawny snaps. “Good day.” He all but slams the door in Colm’s face, and the man sneers a final time before sulking away. “You alright, Arthur?”  
“He wasn’t buggin’ me none,” Arthur says. He sits on the edge of one of the desks in the front row while Trelawny starts unpacking his stuff at the teacher’s station. “So what do you have planned for us?” Arthur asks.  
“Upperclassmen are watching a video about the branches of government,” Trelawny says. “Underclassmen are watching one on the Russian revolution.”  
“How long are you staying for?”  
“They have me here until Tuesday, but Mr. Swanson may need a few more days, so who knows?” Trelawny sits on the desk across from Arthur once he has his stuff set up to his standards. “So, there’s a new English teacher.” He says.  
Arthur scoffs. “Yeah. Milton fired Cornwall for that Miller bullshit, but didn’t fire Colm for all the shit he did. Can you believe that?”  
“Disgusting,” Trelawny nods solemnly. “What do you think of the new guy?”  
“Seems friendly enough,” Arthur says. “He’s a Milton fanatic, too.”  
“Is he now?” Trelawny snorts. “I could guess as much, by how he was dressed.”  
“The man is the right balance of delusional and inspiring,” Arthur says.  
“Inspiring?” Trelawny’s eyes widen. “There’s a word I’ve never heard you use for a teacher, Mr. Morgan. How is Mr. Van Der Linde inspiring?”  
“He just gets it,” Arthur shrugs. “Mostly. Like I said, sometimes he’s delusional and misses the mark, but he pretty much told us Milton can go fuck himself if he wants to play mind games. He understands Milton has built a fortress to trap us instead of a safe place to help us and he genuinely wants to take the information we give him and make a change with it.” He shrugs again. “If Milton doesn’t fire him, kids are going to start listening to what he has to say.”  
“And what does he have to say?”  
“If we want to start a riot in the name of bettering ourselves, it’s our right as American youth to do so, starting with oppressors like Milton,” Arthur says.  
“That is inspiring,” Trelawny chuckles. “It’s astonishing this man got a job here in the first place with that attitude.” There are a few seconds where nothing is said and Trelawny asks, “Does he know what happened last spring?”  
“No.” Arthur shakes his head. “I think Milton told the teachers if anyone mentioned it, they’d get the boot just like Cornwall did, so even the students aren’t supposed to talk about it.”  
“Well, luckily for him, I was hired by the superintendent, not Milton himself, so I can tell anyone I want about what happened and he can’t do anything but submit a complaint to the school board,” Trelawny says smartly, adjusting his tie. “I’ll see what I can do. Once Dutch has the full story, you guys can get to that riot you mentioned.” He winks and pats Arthur’s leg. “Now go on boy, don’t be too late.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick shout out to loverboy_s for leaving me all the nice comments and inspiring me to come back to this story after my little quarantine hiatus. I have my job back, so I plan on updating regularly again, I just have to get the chapters I have written down typed up and published.

FINAL SCORE  
COWBOYS: 14  
COALMINERS: 54

When the game is over, people leave the stands in a disappointed rattle. Players hang their heads as they leave the field, being sworn at by spectators. The cheerleaders give a half-hearted cheer as the announcers in the booth promise the crowd the next game will be better. The pride of Blackwater had always been football, but only when they win.  
“You guys ever been to a party before?” Javier asks Charles and Eagle Flies as everyone makes their way towards the parking lot. “Do you do that kind of shit where you’re from?”  
“Where we’re from, as if we’re not from here,” Eagle Flies snorts. Charles nudges him pointedly and Eagle Flies shakes his head. “No.” He says, rolling his eyes. “Is it like it is in the movies?”  
“Kinda, yeah.” Javier snorts as he leads Charles, Eagle Flies, and Lenny to his car. Arthur flashes his lights once everyone is settled in his car, signaling everyone to follow him as they leave the parking lot with the crowd, splitting off a little way down the road. “Everybody drinks, girls get loose- if that’s what you’re into, I guess- and it’s a good time. Just gotta remember everyone’s gotta split before the cops show up so we don’t get in trouble, so you only got about an hour or two to get trashed.”  
“Is that the only reason we’re coming to this party?” Lenny asks curiously. “To get drunk?”  
“I mean, yeah, kinda,” Javier says. “Either that or girls. I’m here for girls.” He parks his car at the end of the street as the rest of the group gathers in front of the house. It wasn’t a large house, only one or two bedrooms in a single-story home- it definitely wasn’t fitting everyone in the gang, let alone the other people at this party- but one could hardly argue that the whole lot was fitting for a large crowd. A bonfire raged in the backyard; you could see the glow of it surrounding the house from where the group stood. Kids were already spread out across the massive lawn and divided into friend groups, taking pictures with their phones or dancing to music with plastic cups in their hands.  
“Y’all ready to get fucked up?” Sean grins, nearly bouncing on his heels.  
“Pretty nice place,” Micah notes, mostly to himself.  
“Okay,” Arthur says. “We’re meeting back here ‘bout 11, get everyone home before the cops show up and break things up. Y’all know the rules; if you’re driving you can’t drink, if you got work tomorrow you can’t drink more than one or two drinks. Now git lost.”  
The group scatters quickly and Charles almost feels awkward standing alone with Arthur as Eagle Flies runs after Javier like a puppy. Music thumps somewhere in the house in the beat of a song Charles cannot name.  
“Wanna drink?” Arthur asks, looking towards the front window of the house, where he can see kids inside pouring cups of alcohol and passing them out.  
“I don’t usually drink,” Charles says mechanically. It’s an automatic response triggered whenever anyone brings up alcohol.  
“I get it,” Arthur snorts. “ I try to not get too involved with alcohol ‘cause my dad drinks a lot.”  
“Same,” Charles snorts softly, putting his hands in his pockets.  
“Well, let’s see what food we can steal, then.” Arthur hooks his arm through Charles’ and starts leading him inside. There are eyes on them as they enter the house, but Arthur doesn’t seem to notice. The music is entirely too loud for Charles’ taste but he tries to ignore it as Arthur drags him to a table covered in boxes of pizza and bowls of chips. Arthur grabs a couple of slices of pepperoni pizza and leads Charles out to the backyard, where the bonfire seems much more peaceful than the party inside.  
Charles spots a group of kids crowding Sean and Karen as they make out by the fire, the smacking of their lips colliding wetly sending a disgusted chill through Charles as he quickly averts eyes.  
“They’re so gross, aren’t they?” Arthur says when he feels Charles shudder. Charles snorts and nods. “Last year they got suspended ‘cause they got caught doin’ some nasty shit in the bathroom.”  
“My God,” Charles says.  
“Oh, they have no control over themselves,” Arthur snorts. “It’s real bad, almost primal.”  
“They don’t care everyone is watching them?”  
“I mean, Sean has no shame anyways, and it’s hard for Karen to feel shame when she spent most of her freshman year sucking dick in the baseball dugouts.”  
“Really?”  
“Oh yeah,” Arthur chuckles. “That’s how we met her; Mac played baseball and they’d fool around after practices and shit.”  
“Oh.”  
“Same with Abigail. She used to fool around with a bunch of us before John knocked her up.”  
“Is that how you met all your girls?” Charles didn’t mean to include a bite in the question, but it comes out that way, like he’s offended.  
“I mean, kinda,” Arthur doesn’t notice Charles’ tone and keeps talking. “Tilly and Javier went out for a few months before they decided it was weird cause she was a freshman and he was a junior at the time, and Molly hung around Davey a lot ‘cause he played football and she was a cheerleader, but they didn’t really go far either.” He shrugs. “Mary-Beth is Bill’s sister, that’s all our girls.”  
“Have you guys ever recruited a girl just because?” Charles asks.  
“No,” Arthur snorts, but the look on his face that follows tells Charles he regrets it. “We don’t really scout girls ‘cause everyone around here seems like some little daddy’s girl and we don’t need that around here; we need people who ain’t afraid of disappointing their parents and getting in heaps of trouble.” He pauses and shrugs. “Well, I guess we ain’t gettin’ in too much trouble anymore.”  
“Yeah?”  
“I’m trying to keep us on the straight and narrow for now,” Arthur says. “Can’t afford getting into too much trouble anymore. Remember how I told you we got in a lot of trouble last year?” Charles nods. “Well, after that, a lot of us are on our last strike. Anymore trouble on our record and we might just get expelled.”  
“What even happened?” Charles asks. “I don’t think you ever told me.”  
“Little bit of this, little bit of that,” Arthur says. “Milton and the Callandars went back and forth about some stupid shit until it boiled over, and then we went and spray painted the school.”  
“Really?” Charles blinks.  
“Almost got half of us sent to jail,” Arthur nods. “It wasn’t pretty.”  
“Why’d you do it?”  
Arthur takes a bite of pizza, and it’s obvious he did it in that moment to avoid answering the question just yet. “I mean,” He says in between bites. “Milton had it coming, the guy is an asshole. He spent like, 2 months after Christmas telling seniors if they did the senior prank they weren’t getting prom or senior breakfast. He had a group of students expelled when they were coming up short on credits instead of letting them do credit recovery cause it would’ve looked bad on the school record- You know what? That’s the thing-” He says, suddenly abandoning his previous train of thought, as well as his slice of pizza, now resting beside him. “He cares more about the school’s reputation than the wellbeing of the students within it. He runs the school like a prison because he thinks it looks better that way, and it’s not right, so Mac and Davey-”  
“Arthur!” Javier calls from the back porch. “You seen Bill anywhere?”  
“No,” Arthur says.  
“Micah was with him last!” Sean calls, pulling himself away from Karen for a moment. “Look for him.”  
“Micah said he came out back,” Javier says.  
“Well, we ain’t seen him,” Arthur says. He turns back to Charles once Javier goes back inside. “Milton thinks he’s doing everyone a favor, but we’re all miserable. Mac and Davey wanted to protest Milton’s behavior, but they were already seniors, they couldn’t really do anything, so they passed the decision of how to rebel onto the underclassmen. And we… Spray-painted the school.”  
“What’d Milton do?” Charles asks.  
“Oh, get a load of this!” Arthur exclaims. “We had to do a community service project that was cleaning the school over the summer. He assigned us each specific days to come do it. Bill worked 6 or 7 days a week this summer, working a couple different jobs. He can’t play football this year ‘cause he didn’t finish his hours.” Arthur shrugs. “Similar thing happened with John and baseball; he missed a bunch of school at the beginning of last year cause he got attacked by his foster family’s dog and got real fucked up- that’s why he has those scars on his face.” Arthur shrugs. “I missed 2 months of school sophomore year and Milton almost had me expelled.”  
Charles blinks. “Why’d you miss so much school?”  
“My mom died.”  
Charles’ stomach twists and it feels like all conversation around them stops even though he knows it doesn’t. He knew Arthur’s mom passed- or at least that Arthur never mentioned her- but didn’t know it had happened so recently, “O-Oh.” He finally chokes out. “Sorry.”  
“Ah, it’s fine,” Arthur says. “Well, it’s not fine, but you know. You’re fine.” He shrugs. “She was sick most of my life so…” He trails off.  
Charles nods. He’s not sure what to say next, not sure he could say anything anyways, so he just picks at his pizza.  
Arthur sees Charles’ discomfort and nods. “Yeah, that’s the face people usually make.”  
“Were you two close?”  
“Well, it’s usually the parent who means more to you that goes first,” Arthur says. Charles registers that statement and his expression changes as he nods. “We were real close.”  
Charles opens his mouth to speak, but finds himself unable to. He closes his mouth and tries again. The sound gets lost somewhere in his chest and he frowns at the sound of silence amidst the crackling fire.  
“Well,” Arthur finally says. “Didn’t want to be a downer, my bad.”  
“You’re okay,” Charles manages after a few seconds. “Um… How about a drink now?”  
“Good call,” Arthur nods, quickly getting up. Charles remains seated at the fire while Arthur heads inside. All around him he can hear people talking, singing, enjoying themselves as if the most awkward conversation wasn’t happening next to them. They were completely oblivious to the fact that seated at the very same fire was a realization that Charles and Arthur shared one very big thing in common, but just dissimilar enough that it almost wasn’t worth mentioning again.  
His phone buzzes beside him, signaling a text:

Eagle Flies: You look like someone killed a dog in front of you, will you relax?  
Charles: Where are you?  
Eagle Flies: Bedroom to your left. I can see you from my seat, lighten up.  
Charles: I’m fine. Just a heavy conversation.  
Eagle Flies: It’s a party. Don’t have heavy conversations. Either have a drink and chill or I’m gonna come out there and make you.  
Charles: Arthur’s going and getting us drinks right now.  
Eagle Flies: Good.

Arthur returns with a smile, handing Charles a red solo cup filled with pinkish liquid. When Charles raises an eyebrow and takes the cup, Arthur clarifies, “This kid Marcus makes really good drinks. He calls these Starburst Fireworks. Pink Starburst bits, sweet and sour mix, watermelon schnapps, and vanilla vodka.” He shrugs. “Gang thinks it looks real girly, but it puts you on your ass quick, so they can keep their pussy-ass beers.”  
Charles sniffs the drink and nods slowly. It smells like a bag of Skittles but mixed with the intoxicating burn of alcohol. He can’t decide if he likes it or not by scent and decides to just go for it. The moment the concoction touches his tongue, a warm flush washes over him and settles in the pit of his stomach. “Oh!” Charles blinks.  
“Good, ain’t it?” Arthur takes a drink of his, smacking his lips loudly as he swallows and sits down. “These’re technically supposed to be shots, but it’s funner to put 4 or 5 in one cup and just go for it all at once.”  
Charles chuckles softly and takes another drink. It wasn’t bad, he had to admit, but maybe one cup was enough if it was 5 shots worth of all that stuff. He’s sure that 20 minutes or so from now, he’s going to be feeling warm and dizzy. But maybe not, maybe he’ll be fine.

He was not fine. Charles has no proof, but he’s sure Arthur got up and refiled their drinks at some point while Charles stared into the fire, mildly dissociating as his senses numbed and his body became warm. Either way, Charles was sure he had more than one cup of that tempting pink liquid.  
“You know,” Charles says once the noise around the fire- now embers- died down. “I thought you said whoever was driving wasn’t allowed to drink.”  
Arthur had his head in Charles’ lap, staring up at the stars. When Charles speaks, he smiles. “Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” He starts laughing. “Well, shit.” The sound of his laugh makes Charles laugh, running a hand through Arthur’s hair. “I’ll have to call Tilly soon, then. What time is it?”  
“11:40.”  
Charles looks up at Eagle Flies, who has been standing patiently behind them for some time, watching them giggle back and forth. “Shit,” Charles says.  
“Rest of the gang went home a while ago, it’s just us and Micah.” Eagle Flies says. “Micah said he’s staying the night.”  
“Oo!” Arthur sits up suddenly. “What if, get this, we stay the night?”  
“We gotta get home.” Eagle Flies sees Charles’ eyes light up at Arthur’s suggestion, and as much as it breaks his heart to ruin Charles’ fun, Eagle Flies has to take charge. “Maybe some other time.”  
Charles pouts, shrinking in on himself. “Fine.” He grunts.  
“You’re so broody.” Eagle Flies snorts.  
“Nuh-uh.”  
“Oh, you’re right, you’re pouty.” Eagle Flies snorts harder. “Like a spoiled little brat.” He helps Arthur sit up and starts checking the boy’s pockets. “Now where’s your phone, big guy?”  
“I got it.” Arthur leans away from him, snorting. “I ain’t so drunk I can’t use a phone, just a car.” He scrolls through his phone for a moment before putting it up to his ear. After a few rings, he slurs, “Hey~ Can you drive a couple of us home? I wasn’t s’posed to drink, but I did.” He snickers softly and nods to the others; Eagle Flies can hear Tilly sigh on the other end of the line.  
“Guess we’ll wait for her, then” Eagle Flies sits next to Charles as Arthur leans back again, laying his head in Charles’ lap. “How’re you feelin’ Charles?” Eagle Flies says as Charles’ hand wastes no time finding its home in Arthur’s hair.  
“I’m okay,” Charles shrugs.  
“I bet more than okay, hm?” Eagle Flies nudges him playfully. “Sittin’ here with your boyfriend~ Playin’ with him hair~”  
“Shuddup.” Charles pouts, a light tint appearing under his skin. “Don’t say that.”  
“Aw, what~?” Eagle Flies teases. “Scared I’m gonna embarrass you~?”  
“No,” Charles grunts.  
“He ain’t my boyfriend yet.” Arthur chirps, eyes closed.  
Charles’ skin chills and flushes simultaneously, causing Eagle Flies to snicker. “Hm?”  
“I said you ain’t my boyfriend-” Arthur’s interrupted by a hiccup. “-Yet.”  
“Yet?” Eagle Flies prompts hopefully.  
“Yet,” Arthur repeats. He looks like he’s going to elaborate on that, but doesn't get a chance to before he loses his train of thought. He lets the word hang in the air instead.  
“Why ain’t he your boyfriend yet?” Eagle Flies asks after a minute or two of silence, attempting to get the man back on track. Charles gasps and goes to hit him playfully, but stops when there is a bright set of blue and white lights towards the front of the property.  
Everyone freezes, their brains idling just a second too long before Arthur jumps up, nearly stumbling forward before catching himself. “We gotta go.” He says, his voice clear and unslurred. “Now.”  
“Shit,” Eagle Flies starts to help Charles, but the man is already on his feet. “Where are we-”  
“Cut through the neighbor’s yard, follow me,” Arthur says. “If we get split up, meet at Southside Plaza Park.” Without another word, he bolts across the yard. Charles and Eagle Flies stay right on his heels, jumping the fence with little to no resistance. “Shit, Micah-”  
Eagle Flies doesn’t miss a beat. “Leave him. If he gets caught, that’s on him.”  
“Text Tilly,” Arthur says. “Tell her to pick us up at the park.”  
They hop another fence into another yard and Arthur suddenly makes a sharp turn against the wide side of the house, Eagle Flies gently tugging Charles along as they make their way across the street. When Arthur looks back, there are 2 cop cars in front of the house, already lining kids up along the curb. Arthur will have to come back for his car tomorrow; fortunately, it’s parked patiently just far enough away from the house to not raise suspicion. 

Eagle Flies: Cops showed up, Arthur said to pick us up at the park.  
Tilly: Alright. You all still together or did you get split up?  
Eagle Flies: Together.

Cars drive by slowly as they pass the trio, walking along a road with no sidewalks towards the park.  
“You’re awfully sober now,” Eagle Flies says to break the silence.  
“Yeh,” Arthur says. It’s all he says for a moment before saying, “He gonna be okay?”  
Eagle Flies looks at Charles, stumbling a bit behind them. He’s been quiet since they made their escape, eyes cloudy and holding Eagle Flies’ hand like a child. “He’s okay,” Eagle Flies says. “He’s probably just exhausted.” If Charles were sober, he’d reprimand the younger man for acting like he wasn’t there, but for now, he is in no position for such reprimands.  
“And you ain’t?” Arthur snorts.  
“I’m the king of handling spontaneous bullshit,” Eagle Flies says with a snort. “He runs out of batteries easily. It’s no problem, though; I’ll get him home, he’ll sleep through most of tomorrow and be good as new Sunday morning.”  
Arthur chuckles “Just that easy, huh?”  
“Give or take a few steps,” Eagle Flies snorts. “So,” He attempts to change the subject. “How did you two meet?”  
Arthur doesn’t speak for a while; Eagle Flies just assumed he either didn’t hear him or was still drunk enough that he couldn’t remember off the top of his head. When Arthur finally does answer him, it’s when they’ve reached the park, seated at a stone picnic table under a small shelter, the seats slightly damp in the cool midnight air. “I was still new at the coffee shop, training was a nightmare. I got so many drinks wrong and I was so stressed I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had gone out to the parking lot to catch my breath, and I saw Charles smoking a cigarette at the end of the lot. Asked him if I could bum a cigarette from him, and after I smoked I brought him out a coffee. Next day he sat in the back and I made him another one. It kept going every other day or so, he’d either wait outside or come in and sit down and I’d practice making drinks by making them for him for cigarettes.”  
“When was the first time he talked to you?” Eagle Flies asks. Beside him on the bench, Charles rests his head on the cool surface of the table and shivers.  
“I dunno,” Arthur snorts. “Wasn’t for a while, I guess. Up to that point, we weren’t really speaking, I was just making him drinks and sometimes he’d let me sit next to him while we smoked. Why?”  
“Well, ‘cause it’s kind of a big deal,” Eagle Flies snorts. “He didn’t talk to anyone but me ‘til he got around you.”  
“What do you mean?” Arthur raises an eyebrow.  
“He just doesn’t talk to anyone,” Eagle Flies says. “He gets really bad anxiety talking to people, so he usually just lets me talk and he-” He gestures to Charles, half-asleep beside him. “He somehow managed to turn little trips into town into a friendship with you without me even knowing you existed until he had me help convince his dad to move us to your school.”  
Arthur glances at Charles, he picks his head up and looks at Eagle Flies. He noticed Charles was shy, sure. But hadn’t thought anything of it. “Well,” He says. “You’re welcome, I guess.” 

Javier: Heard cops showed up. Everyone okay?  
Arthur: Yeah, Charles, EF, and me made it out.  
Abigail: Why were you guys still there?  
Tilly: They were drinking, I’m going to pick them up now.  
John: Why were you drinking Arthur??  
Arthur: Got talking about my mom, I wasn’t thinking.  
Javier: Did you leave Micah there?  
Arthur: Yeah.  
Sean: Good. Serves him rought  
Sean: Rough*  
Sean: Right* Fuck.  
Javier: How much did you have to drink, Sean?  
Sean: I’m fine. Just had some stuff out my da’s cupboard  
Javier: Least you ain’t Bill. I can’t get him out of the car by myself so he’s just in my backseat in the driveway right now.  
Arthur: Holy shit.

A set of headlights catches the corner of Arthur’s eye and he turns, the others following his gaze to find Tilly’s van coming towards them. She stops at the edge of where the grass meets parking lot and the group gets up, everyone a bit more sturdy on their feet, and gets into Tilly’s car.  
“Hey boys,” Tilly says. She looks a little tired, her hair hidden under a pink shower cap.  
Arthur sees Tilly is wearing a pair of Mary-Beth’s pants. “MB with you?”  
“Yeah,” Tilly says. “Someone take Bill home?”  
“Javier just said he’s got Bill in his driveway still in the car.” Arthur snorts.  
“Oh, good lord.” Tilly snorts. “That man, I swear.” She looks at Eagle Flies and Charles in the back seat. “Where are we goin’ boys?”  
“It’s on Alpine.” Eagle Flies says from the front passenger side. “I’ll let you know which house it is.”  
Tilly nods and starts driving towards Little Shenandoah. She rolls down the passenger window and lets cool air gently brush against Arthur and Charles’ faces. The two almost moan simultaneously at the sensation. “How much did they have?”  
“Not a lot.” Eagle Flies says. “They only had 2 or 3 drinks, I watched ‘em.”  
“They were the starburst shots,” Arthur mumbles. “In the big cups.” Tilly groans softly. “It ain’t too bad.” Arthur protests.  
“You know drinking a lot of those gives you a bad hangover,” Tilly says. “You’re gonna be so messed up tomorrow.”  
“I’m fine.” Arthur snorts. He points towards Charles’ house on the left. “It’s right there.”  
“Nope,” Eagle Flies interjects quickly. “Goin’ down about another block, red brick house on the right.” He pats Arthur’s shoulder. “Gonna keep Charles at my house 'til morning so we don’t wake his old man.”  
“Ah,” Arthur says. He slumps into his seat a bit when Tilly pulls into the driveway and Eagle Flies helps Charles out of the car.  
“I got it,” Charles says once he finds his footing.  
“I know you do.” Eagle Flies chuckles. He taps the side of the van gently and smiles at Tilly. “Thank you.” He says.  
“See you guys Monday,” Tilly says.  
Eagle Flies walks around the side of the house, Charles following him closely. When he gets to his bedroom window he gently slides the window open and peeks into the room. His bedroom door is open, revealing the hallway that’s illuminated with a dim light bulb, and he can see into his father’s room. His father appears to be asleep on the bed, so Eagle Flies nods to Charles and climbs into the window as quietly as he can. He quickly closes the distance between him and the door and gently shuts it in time for Charles to climb into the window. He, surprisingly enough, doesn’t make as much noise as Eagle Flies thought he was going to make, flopping into the bed with only a gentle squeak of springs.  
Eagle Flies climbs into the bed between Charles and the wall, kicking off his shoes. He hears Charles’ boots thump next to his own and it’s not long before the older man is sleeping soundly, Eagle Flies soon behind him.


	14. Chapter 14

2:18 PM  
Arthur: Sound off, who’s not dead?  
Javier: I’m okay. Bill is still asleep in my car, but he’s alive.  
Lenny: I’m okay.  
Karen: Sean’s hungover, but we’re okay.  
Eagle Flies: Me and Charles are okay.  
Molly: I don’t want to bother asking, but has anyone heard from Micah?  
Arthur: No  
Tilly: Should we be concerned he got picked up?  
Arthur: Maybe. I hope the cops just smacked a fine on him and let him go, didn’t ask too many questions about the party.

3:11 PM  
Micah: They let me go.  
Arthur: You didn’t say anything about anyone else there, right?  
Micah: I’m not a fucking amateur Morgan, I didn’t tell them shit.  
Micah: Thanks for leaving me behind, btw :)  
Arthur: I hardly remember last night, man. I was trashed.  
Micah: Uh-huh  
Javier: You need a ride to work later Micah?  
Micah: Probably.  
Javier: Good, you can help me wake Bill up. I gotta get him out of my backseat before my sister sees him.

“Friday night the Cowboys kicked off a new football season against the Annesburg Coal miners,” Milton reports during morning announcements on Monday morning. “The final score was 14-54 in the Coal miners favor, our first loss of the season. This Friday we’ll play the Mustangs of Rhodes on their turf. We’ll get ‘em next time, Cowboys.”  
“Bullshit,” Bill scoffs. “Rhodes has beat our ass every year-”  
“Watch your language, Mr. Williamson,” Grimshaw scolds without looking up from her computer.  
“Piss off.” Bill snaps. “Free speech.” Grimshaw’s keystrokes become sharper and more aggressive and Bill smiles to himself. He loves pissing off the old woman; reminds him of pissing off his step-mom.  
When Grimshaw’s phone rings, she answers with a sharp, “Hello?”, which is neutralized upon the request of the answering voice. “He’ll be right down.” She hands up the phone. “Mr. Williamson,” She sneers. “Mr. Van Der Linde wants to see you.”  
“Why?”  
“He didn’t say,” Grimshaw says, writing him a hall pass. “Go on.”  
Bill snatches the pass from her and drags himself downstairs to Dutch’s classroom. The room was empty except for Dutch, seated at his desk, and Charles, seated in front of him. Next to Charles was an empty chair.  
“Hello, Bill.” Dutch smiles, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him. “Sit down, please.”  
Bill and Charles eye each other warily as Bill finds his seat. Bill can tell by Charles’ face that he doesn’t know what this is about. Bill does.  
“This is about the senior thesis project, right?” As soon as Bill asks, Charles’ body language changes, gets stiffer.  
Dutch nods. “You’re the only two seniors who haven’t submitted your topics. I asked for them nearly a month ago.”  
Bill crosses his arms and leans back in his seat. “Okay.” He says blandly.  
“I’ve given you almost 3 weeks to turn it in the papers past the original date, and neither of you have submitted anything.” Dutch continues.  
“Okay,” Bill repeats, shrugging. “I don’t know about him, but you ain’t gettin' one from me.”  
Charles opens his mouth and shuts it again, shaking his head as he looks down at his lap as if ashamed.  
“Guys,” Dutch’s voice is soft and he leans further onto his desk, looking between the two young men without forcing much eye contact. “I know you don’t want to do this project, but I can’t just let you take zeros on it.”  
“Sure you can,” Bill says. “Cause I ain’t writin’ a paper, and I sure as shit ain’t doing the speech.”  
“Why won’t you write the paper?” Dutch asks. “We’ll get to the speech some other time, but why not even bother with the paper?”  
“‘Cause it’s dumb,” Bill says. “And it’s too much work.”  
“You consider ten pages a lot of work?” Dutch asks.  
“Well, what do you think is a lot of work?” Bill scoffs.  
“To get my English degree to move onto my teaching license, I needed to write a 50-page paper analyzing one piece of media of my choosing,” Dutch says. “I chose Evelyn Miller’s premiere piece titled America and my analysis ended up at nearly 100 pages, almost as long as the text itself.”  
“Fuck that.” Bill scoffs loudly. “You can’t even make me read 100 pages of something, let alone write it.”  
“Well, if you find a topic that interests you that much,” Dutch shrugs. “You write it and you don’t even realize you’ve written that much.”  
“What if I don’t have somethin’ that interests me anything worth 10 pages?” Bill asks.  
“Something has to,” Dutch says. “You have to have some kind of passion, or else you wouldn’t have the friends you have. Now, I’ve never met Mac and Davey Callander, but my understanding of them was that they chose who got to be in their group for a reason, it wasn’t just letting people be trusted all willy-nilly. They saw something in you that people like Arthur or Javier keep around, despite the fact they treat you like a joke most times.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bill starts. “ ‘Treat me like a joke’?”  
“You’re not listening to me,” Dutch shakes his head. “Don’t focus on that part. I said the Callanders chose you for a reason. They saw something in you, and that something shows me you can find something you’re passionate enough about to finish the project.”  
“And if I can’t find it?” Bill rolls his eyes.  
“Ask the others,” Dutch says.  
“And if they can’t find it?”  
“We’ll figure something else out,” Dutch says. “I’m not giving up on you, Mr. Williamson, despite the fact you think everyone else has.” With nothing left to say to Bill, Dutch glances towards Charles, who has watching silently. “I know you’re not going to talk to me, so I won’t force you to hold the conversation like he just did. I just want you to be aware that you have to write the paper, I can’t give you a pass on this. You’re not stupid, Mr. Smith, you’ll think of something.”  
Charles sighs loudly, leaning back in his chair.  
“Now, if the speech is the source of this problem you two have with the senior thesis, will see if accommodations can be made to get the points for the other half of the project. You just have to show me you can write the paper.” Dutch says, handing each of them a piece of paper. “Here is another form for the thesis submittal. I want this by the end of 6th period today. Is that clear?”  
Charles ods and stands up without looking at either man, leaving the room with a humiliated huff.  
“Bill?”  
Bill stands up. “I hear you.” He says, throwing the paper in the trash as he exits the room.

Javier: What’d Dutch want with you?  
Bill: How’d you know?  
Javier: He threw my whole class in Uncle’s room so he could talk to you guys alone.  
Bill: Oh  
Bill: Just senior thesis shit.  
Javier: He calling your dad?  
Bill: I sure fucking hope not  
Bill: He said Mac and Davey chose me for the gang for a reason, and that I gotta find that reason to write my paper.  
Javier: Wtf does that even mean?  
Bill: I don’t even know.  
Bill: Why do you think they chose me?  
Javier: How would I know? You were a part of the gang years before I was.  
Bill: Right. I’ll ask Arthur I guess.

Charles: The longer we’re here, the more I regret this.  
Eagle Flies: ?? What happened?  
Charles: Dutch wants my senior thesis topic today.  
Eagle Flies: Oof. What are you gonna do?  
Charles: Die, I guess.  
Charles: What are you doing for yours?  
Eagle Flies: How the taxes from the reservation should be used for bettering the reservation, not the township.  
Charles: Ah.  
Eagle Flies: You can write about what happened to your mom.  
Charles: No  
Eagle Flies: Worth a shot.  
Charles: Was it?  
Eagle Flies: Write about how it’s been hard for you to talk to other people.  
Charles: Why are you giving me such personal suggestions? It’s a research paper.  
Eagle Flies: I dunno. Just trying to find something that resonates with you.  
Charles: My missing mother and psychological trauma don’t resonate with me.  
Eagle Flies: :/

  
When Mary-Beth lines up for gym next period, she sees Kieran towards the end of the line, shifting awkwardly. When he looks up and sees her staring at him, the two wave at each other with a shy smile before Kieran redirects his attention to the floor in front of him. Mary-Beth giggles and faces forward as the gym teacher announces the most exciting unit in high school gym class history.  
Dodgeball.  
Kieran’s stomach sinks so fast he feels like he’s going to throw up. Dodgeball was one of his least favorite sports. Mainly because he always got hurt, but also because it as the one sport he wasn’t safe no matter what. Even his own teammates would hit him with the ball sometimes just so they could, it didn’t even matter they were one man down.  
“Team captains this week,” The gym teacher continues after the cheers die down. “Will be Amanda Calico and Mary-Beth Gaskill.”  
Kieran blinks as he watches Mary-Beth go to the front of the room. She loses the coin toss and has to pick her first teammate second, but it doesn’t matter because the first person she picks is-  
“Kieran.”  
The class mumbles curiously as Kieran comes to Mary-Beth’s side. Kieran’s never been picked anything but last (Except for the football unit at the very beginning of the year, when the girl who got chose last came in late and he got picked penultimately by default), so to see him picked as Mary-Beth’s first choice- with no hesitation, at that- was very strange.  
“Hey,” Mary-Beth grins at him.  
“Hey,” Kieran smiles back.  
“Untouchable, right?” She winks at him, and Kieran feels his anxiety slip away. He loves Mary-Beth’s smile. It’s always so warm and kind and Kieran cannot voice how much it puts him at ease to see her smile.  
Since that first day of school, when Mary-Beth walked him to class, Mary-Beth makes sure to smile at him every time she passes him in the hall. After lunch, she walks him to his history class and usually meets him after that class to walk him at least part of the way to science before she splits off to go to choir. Kieran wishes he had one of the classes taught in the elective hallway that period so he could walk with her just a bit longer; maybe even hear her sing.  
Once teams are formed, the teacher splits the gym with a row of rubber balls in all colors as the teams huddle to think up their strategies. Mary-Beth picks the two people she believes are their best throwers- they play sports, but Mary-Beth didn’t bother remembering which ones- and tells the others to try to defend them. They break the huddle and spread throughout their half of the gym, the other team soon mirroring them.  
With the sharp blow of a whistle, the match begins.

Bill: Hey Arthur?  
Arthur: What?  
Bill: Why did Davey and Mac choose me?  
Arthur: What?  
Bill: For the gang. Why did they choose me?  
Arthur: I don’t know. We were kids when we started hanging out with them.  
Bill: Yeah, but I’m talking about when they formed the gang. We were older when they asked you and me to help them start their revolution shit.  
Arthur: We were bigger than them and could easily provide muscle? That’s what I’ve always thought.  
Arthur: Why are you asking all of a sudden?  
Bill: Dutch asked me for my senior thesis topic. Said Mac and Davey probably chose me because they saw something in me. He wants to know what it is cause it’ll help me write my paper, apparently.  
Arthur: You really think Dutch wasn’t just talking out of his ass?  
Bill: I mean, yeah, he could be. I thought I’d ask anyways since Dutch makes it sound like he’s not leaving me alone about it.  
Arthur: You really just gonna do what he suggests?  
Bill: Of course not!  
Bill: Just something I was thinking about.  
Arthur: Well stop thinking. Don’t want the fire alarms to go off

The game wasn’t looking good. Mary-Beth and the two jock students were the only ones left on their side while the other team had only lost two people. Kieran sat helplessly on the sidelines, nursing a sore shoulder, as he watched Mary-Beth run around and laughing, dodging every ball thrown at her. For her, the game is fun, running around like a little kid; she’s having the time of her life while he dreads the game more the longer it goes on.  
A lightning-quick thwack and the boy who Mary-Beth had been using as a shield is out, followed by another sound of a ball hitting flesh. Mary-Beth barely wraps her arms around the ball as it collides at sickening speed into her ribs. The wind is knocked out of her and she falls onto her back, but she did catch the ball, meaning whoever threw it is out and one of her players gets to come back in.  
It’s not Kieran, luckily, but the next ball that is caught will signal his re-entry. It’s currently 2 players against 3, that should be easy enough to end without him getting involved.  
A few seconds pass before Mary-Beth finally sits up, allowing the ball to fall to the floor beside her. Her face is red and she’s gasping for air, but Kieran can still see that she’s trying to smile as the boys on their team help her to her feet.  
“You okay?” They ask.  
“Heck yeah!” Mary-Beth pants out, giving a thumbs-up. “Let’s go!”  
The game resumes and Kieran watches intently, trying to figure out what he’s gonna do if he gets brought back into the game.  
By the time Kieran is finally brought in the game with a catch of a ball, it’s just him and another boy left against 5 people. Mary-Beth rests on the sidelines, cheering them on enthusiastically, even though she cannot possibly be holding out hope for a miracle with the remaining players.  
A ball flies towards Kieran and he braces his face, shocked when the ball doesn’t hit him as hard as he anticipates. Reflexively he grabs the ball before it hits the floor and the team on the sideline begins cheering. A moment later, Kieran realizes he is not joined by an extra teammate because he caught a ball.  
He caught a ball!  
What the fuck does he do now?  
Without thinking, Kieran throws the ball, desperate to get it away from him before people used the bright red ball as a target. He feels his whole team go silent as a thwack echoes across the gym. The silence is broken nearly a second later as the teacher calls a player out of the game.  
“Good throw, Duffy!” The teacher calls.  
“Go, Kieran!” Mary-Beth squeals, clapping her hands.  
Kieran feels his face heat up at the praise and quickly returns to his strategy of covering himself with other players, avoiding every ball he can. He caught a ball and threw it back, getting two players out in the process and evening the teams, but it was best not to press his luck and try again.  
The war of attrition continues the rest of class. The other team has almost all their players back while Kieran and a sophomore girl are all that’s left on his side. The room is electric as both teams scream across the gym, counting down the clock.  
“One of you throw something!” The teacher shouts to Kieran and his teammate. Most of the balls were on their side of the court, but neither Kieran nor his partner are the type to throw balls (Except for the astonishing shot Kieran made earlier)  
With a whip of air, Kieran and his partner try to dodge 4 balls thrown in unison towards them. Kieran is safe, but the girl is out after being struck in the face, sending her sprawling on the floor. Kieran’s stomach turns sour at the sight, even more so after the realization he is all alone, one against twelve. But he also notices, all the balls are on his side now. It’s not much help, he’s so screwed, but this means he will be out when someone catches the ball, as opposed to being massacred with a ball.  
“You can do it, Kieran!” Mary-Beth has been cheering him on this whole game, much to the surprise of the rest of the team as, admittingly, he sucks. “Whoo!”  
She never stopped smiling, though, s Kieran was fine with that.  
Kieran picked up a ball, desperate to end the game, and threw it. It got caught, obviously, and the game was over with a cheer from the kids who had been sitting out forever.  
Kieran turns to retreat to the locker room with the rest of the students when he feels a sharp pain in the back of his head, his vision going white for only a moment. When his vision returns, he is on his hands on knees, several kids crowding him. Kieran sees one of the rubber balls rolling away from him and he makes the connection he must have been struck.  
“Are you okay?” Asks a boy.  
“Here, sweetheart,” A girl holds her hand out for him to take, but he doesn’t take it. Instead, he stumbles to his feet unassisted and turns to see his assailant is the boy hit had hit earlier. Or at least that who he assumes threw the ball, as he is the one being screamed at by Mary-Beth.  
“The game was over, are you crazy?” Mary-Beth yells.  
“I didn’t know that!” The kid argues.  
“Oh, bullshit!” Mary-Beth scoffs. “Why else would everyone start heading towards the locker room?”  
“I don’t know!”  
“I-I’m okay, Mary-Beth,” Kieran says softly, rubbing the back of his head.  
“See, he’s fine!” The boy gestures to Kieran. “Relax, kid, Jesus.” He rolls his eyes at Mary-beth and starts to walk past everyone out of the gym, but is stopped when he is struck suddenly in the back with a ball. He groans in pain and grabs his back a he turns to Mary-Beth, dusting off her hands.  
“Miss Gaskill!” The gym teacher barks.

11:18 AM  
Javier: Bill, what happened with MB?  
Bill: What?  
Javier: She’s sitting in Milton’s office getting yelled at.  
Bill: She’s what?


	15. Chapter 15

“How long is she suspended?” Lenny asks Bill as they enter the auditorium.

“Milton’s got her suspended for 3 days, then ISS for two after that,” Bill says. “For hitting a kid with a dodgeball, can you believe that?”

“I thought that was the whole point of dodgeball.” Arthur laughs from behind them.

“The game was over,” Bill says. “She hit him ‘cause he hit some other kid after the coach called the game.”

“Was she the only one who got in trouble?” Lenny asks.

“Of course,” Bill snorts. “The first kid got the rest of the day in ISS and then he’s free.”

“I still can’t believe she hit someone,” Tilly says. “That’s so unlike her.”

“Well, you remember that boy she’s been hanging out with, right?” Karen says. “I heard it was that kid she was defending.”

“What boy?” Bill suddenly leans over the theatre seats to hear them. “She ain’t been hanging out with no boy.”

“I don’t remember his name,” Karen says. “But she walks him to class just about every day. He’s kinda greasy lookin’, real quiet.”

“I ain’t never seen him,” Bill snaps. “What’s she walking him to class for?”

“Will you relax?” Karen laughs. “She’s just got a soft spot for him, it ain’t nothin’ serious.”

“Let the girl flirt, Bill,” Tilly teases. “She’s almost 15.”

“I don’t care how old she is, she don’t need to be hangin’ out with some boy, gettin’ herself suspended and shit.”

“I’d hardly count him as a boy.” Arthur snorts. “We’re talking about that kid that got jumped during lunch the first day, right?”

“Yeah,” Tilly says.

“Wait, the kid that looks like John if John was queer?” Bill scoffs. “Never mind, I ain’t that worri-”

“Mr. Williamson,” Hosea says as he enters the classroom from stage left, reading something in a binder he’s holding. “You know I don’t allow that word in my classroom.”

“What, John?” Bill snorts. “Yeah, I don’t like that word a lot either.”

“Fuck you,” John pouts.

“Mr. Williamson, I’m serious.” Hosea peeks over the edge of the binder. “I don’t allow the word ‘queer’ in my classroom, especially not being used by you.”

“It ain’t like I’m actually trying to be mean.” Bill rolls his eyes. “I mean, Mac was bi, right?”

“Yeah,” Sean nods. “So am I.”

“And so’s Arthur,” John says.

“Shut up.” Arthur snaps at him.

“And probably a bunch of people who don’t wanna say somethin,” Bill says. “I ain’t saying it like a bad thing, just…” He gestures, unable to finish the thought.

“It’s for shock value,” Hosea nods. “To get under people’s skin, I know. I still don’t allow that word. If that’s a problem, you can step outside.” He closes the binder and begins doing attendance. “It speaks volumes to your character that you’d even say such a word.”

“Yeah? And what does it say?” Bill says.

Hosea doesn’t look up from the attendance. “Do you know how many homophobic people- especially conservatively raised homophobes- turn out to be closeted gays, Bill?”

“What are you implying?” Bill snaps as some kids snort under their breath.

“Over 25% of them,” Hosea continues. “That’s roughly one of every four people. It’s strange because I feel like I know 4 homophobic characters around here.”

“Yeah?” Sean eggs him on. “Who is that, Hosea?”

“Well, just off the top of my head,” Hosea hums. “Bill, his father, Micah, and Colm O’Driscoll.” Bill opens his mouth to speak and Hosea interrupts him with, “Out of those four, I wonder which one has ended up being gay?”

The class starts buzzing with whispers, glancing towards Bill, whose face is now flushed dark red as he sits speechless. When he finally finds his words, he barks a short, “Faggot!” at Hosea before he gets up and leaves the room. The door slams shut behind him and the class erupts into laughter.

“Alright, alright!” Hosea holds his hand up to quiet the class. They go silent almost instantly. “That wasn’t nice of me to do, I suppose.” He admits. “That was rather rude, actually.”

“He deserves it,” Sean snorts. “All the stuff he says about you, it’s nice to see him put in his place for once.”

“Well, just because he was wrong doesn’t mean me insulting him was right,” Hosea says. “Now we’re just both in the wrong.”

“I guess, but it sure felt good watching that,” Sean laughs.

Javier: Where are you?

Bill: Fuck off.

Javier: Don’t take this out on me, I wasn’t laughing at you.

Bill: Don’t matter, go fuck yourself.

Javier: God, you’re so defensive sometimes.

Javier: Where are you?

Bill: Heading to ISS, ain’t nowhere else to go.

Javier: Go wait in the bathroom by the cafeteria.

Bill: For what?

Javier: Gonna go chill out in my car. We just got one class left after this, it’s a waste to get wrote up at the end of the day.

Bill: Fine.

“Mr. Matthews,” Javier raises his hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Don’t be gone too long,” Hosea nods.

Javier gets up, carefully making sure his keys don’t jingle in his pocket. He gestures for Lenny to hold onto his books, and the boy takes them without another word as Javier leaves. When Javier gets to the bathroom, Bill is waiting behind a wall to keep himself hidden from the view of the hallway, hands in his pockets and head low.

“C’mon,” Javier says, gently smacking the wall.

“Just give me your keys,” Bill snaps. “Ain’t no point in gettin’ us both in trouble.”

“You think you’re allowed to go sit in my car alone?” Javier snorts. He tugs Bill along by his arm, ducking into a stairwell. Javier normally comes here when he cuts class, as there’s a blind spot under the stairs the cameras can’t see. Next to that blind spot is an emergency exit, one Javier had disabled by some kids in the AV club. Now the alarm doesn’t go off when the door is opened, allowing for silent escapes like this one. The two walk out the door, careful to crouch under the windows as they pass the band room, getting to the car with no obstacles.

Once inside, Javier wastes no time pulling his car out of its spot and moving to a patch of grass between the school parking lot and the neighboring church lot. They were far enough off school property to smoke, but not far enough on the church lot to count as trespassing.

Javier lights a cigarette and rolls down his window. The shift from summer to early fall was always his favorite time of the year. Late evening breezes still smelled like bonfires and it’s still warm enough the grass doesn’t get all wet in the early morning, but it’s also cool enough he can sit in his car with the windows down and radio on and still enjoy the breeze without a jacket. “You know nobody in the gang actually thinks-” Javier starts.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Bill snaps harshly, lighting a cigarette and throwing the lighter in the cupholder roughly.

“Okay,” Javier says softly. He’s learned that, when Bill’s in this kind of mood, to just submit when he starts yelling. When Bill feels the space is calm again, he normally apologizes and starts to relax.

Bill huffs and turns on the radio. Javier can’t stand when Bill messes with the radio because he always wants to play the country station and Javier cannot stand country music. Well, that’s not entirely true, he only hates country music the same way everyone hates country music until one song comes on and changes the game. For a lot of people, it’s  _ Before He Cheats _ by Carrie Underwood. For Javier, it’s  _ Bottom’s Up _ by Brantly Gilbert. It’s more country rock, but it plays on this station constantly and Javier loves to play it over the speakers whenever there’s a party at the clubhouse (He’ll never admit it was him who turned it on, but no one really seems to mind). It just happens to be the song starting on this station when Bill finally finds it.

“Oh!” Javier grins, immediately starting to tap his steering wheel to the beat. “Here we go!”

Bill tries to hide a smile as he rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the cars passing on the street to the right.

“- _ Ridin’ shotgun like it ain’t no thing, turn the radio up so the girl can sing, right _ ?” Javier sings under his breath. His eyes are closed and his head is back against the headrest as he continues mumbling the lyrics.

Javier’s voice isn’t bad when he sings; he’s the only one in the gang who can sing. Javier’s always had a passion for music, teaching himself how to play guitar after his uncle taught him the basics. In middle school, Bill remembered, Javier played guitar in the talent show right after he moved to Blackwater; it was some song he said his dad wrote before he passed. It was entirely in Spanish so no one knew what he was saying, but nearly the entire room was transfixed on him. Some girls still swoon when they talk about that performance, watching Javier walk in the halls. It was one of the last times he played guitar in public, though; the gang hasn’t heard him play in years.

Bill would never admit it, but he was transfixed that day, too. It’s not like he meant to stare when Javier did the thing where music just took him somewhere entirely different, but the man had such an aura about him when he got like that that Bill couldn’t look away. Bill doesn’t like men, let’s get one thing clear. He just… Likes music. Specifically, music Javier sings. That’s all it was. People have favorite singers all the time, it doesn’t mean anything that his is an actual friend of his. Right?

Javier didn’t want to tell Bill he knew the boy was staring. Bill would get all defensive about it and stomp away, and Javier hated being out here alone when there was a chance of getting caught by Milton. But Bill was staring as Javier laid with his head back, singing. It was the same wide-eyed stare he always had when Javier sang, and Javier never failed to notice.

It’s a weird unspoken thing between them. There’s nothing romantic involved and Javier is pretty sure he’s more aware of it than Bill. Even when they’re insulting each other or fighting, there will always be moments when Bill will watch him sing or something and Javier will gladly do it because he doesn’t mind the stare. In silent return, Javier looks out for Bill a lot more than he should bother, but someone has to; the man is a mess most of the time without anyone to help him.

There is silence as the song ends and the DJ starts talking about some local news; Javier opens his eyes and looks at Bill, who quickly turns away from Javier’s gaze. The motion hangs in the air for a moment before Javier speaks.

“You know I don’t care, right?”

Bill opens his mouth to speak, but closes it quickly, huffing under his breath. Javier swears the man’s face is turning red, but it may just be a trick of the light. Bill doesn’t try to say anything else, only puffing away at his cigarette as if trying to finish it quicker.

“Bill,” Javier says. He stops looking at the man in the hope an indirect approach will make this conversation less tense. “Bill-” He starts again.

“Just shut up,” Bill says. It wasn’t hostile, but weak, almost defeated.

“Bill, just say it,” Javier says softly. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“I ain’t doing this.” Bill opens the door and attempts to get out.

“Bill,” Javier grabs him by the back of his shirt and yanks him back into his seat. The motion jerks the door closed and Javier locks it remotely before another escape attempt can be made. “Stop tryin’ to run.”

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Bill’s tone becomes sharper like the crack of a whip. He rams his back against the seat, bending the fingers Javier still has curled around his shirt uncomfortably but not painfully. Javier pulls his hand away and sighs before any real damage can be done. “Fucking greaser!”

Javier scoffs at the slur and rolls his eyes. “Okay, Bill.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I’m just trying to have a conversation with you.” Javier attempts. He pulls away from Bill to give him more space.

“Unlock the door,” Bill tries to open the door but to no avail. He knows he’s too big to go through the window, but the thought crosses his mind for a second. Or maybe if he can somehow get the top down...

“Bill-”

“Shut up.”

“Why are you so scared?” Javier frowns, his voice soft.

“I ain’t scared,” Bill huffs.

“Then say it.”

“There ain’t nothing to say.”

“Cause you’re scared.”

“I ain’t scared of nothing!”

“Then. Say. It.” Javier emphasizes each word to get Bill to finally look him in the face. “We both know you have something to say.”

“You say it first, if you’re so sure you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of.”

“I’m bi,” Javier says incredulously. The confession makes Bill hesitate, more silence except for the radio, now playing another song. “There, you happy? Now you.” Javier says.

Bill is quiet for what seems like forever, and Javier can feel his stomach curdling. He knows what’s coming, thanks to the lack of interaction. Finally, in a quiet tone, Bill says, “Open the door.”

Javier doesn’t argue this time, he just unlocks the door and lets Bill go. The man doesn’t seem mad, or at least he doesn’t slam the door when he gets out of the car, but he doesn’t look back at Javier as he walks back inside. Javier stays in the car until he hears the bell for the final class change, and slowly pulls his car back into the student lot, flicking the last of his cigarette away.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I know it's been a while but here's my new chapter! I hope everyone is staying safe. Updates should be back on a regular schedule soon, but I'm not sure how soon, with Christmas coming up. Right after Christmas, I'll also be apartment hunting so I'll have that taking up some time too. Don't worry, though, the story is just starting to pick up and I haven't abandoned the project. I'll have it ready for you soon. Stay safe everyone!

Kieran hasn’t always been scared of school. He actually used to like it when he was a kid, he was always so excited to go and learn as much as he could and see all his friends. Each day he’d come home and tell his folks about his day and they’d love to listen to him babble on and on about how fun school was.  
When he got to middle school, however, he realized just how awful school could really be. Kids started to pick on him for everything from his stutter to his smell, and he became more withdrawn. Around the same time, his mom got sick and he missed so much school living with relatives while his mom was in the hospital; he easily fell behind and was never quite able to catch up. When his mom didn’t get any better, he started moving schools every other month or so as his dad kept moving the family around while his mom was taken to various hospitals and treatment centers. Constantly moving around made it hard for Kieran to make friends, especially because it was in teenagers’ nature to be cruel to him.  
When Kieran’s mom finally passed away this past summer, Kieran’s dad wasted no time sending Kieran to live in Blackwater with his grandparents. He didn’t know his grandparents that well, he’d only started seeing them more often once his mom’s condition got worse. He knew they owned some land and kept horses, so he supposed it would be an alright place for him to finish school. Ain’t like he had much of a choice; shortly after he got settled in Blackwater he received news his old man killed himself. There wasn’t even a funeral. Kieran realized soon after that he was probably sent to Blackwater because that was his father’s plan all along.  
He thought things would be different here. Now that he’s not moving around so much, he could make friends and keep up with schoolwork. He wouldn’t just be the stupid mute kid who’s name was always forgotten because he’d be gone in a few weeks anyway. But that’s not how things went. His first day at this new school was no less than a nightmare as a target seemed to manifest on his back the second someone noticed him. It was just like every other school he’d been to; he didn’t think he could ever be free.  
But then Mary-Beth came along and everything changed. She said she was untouchable because her brother was some kind of big shot in school and their friendship made him untouchable too, for the most part. When Mary-Beth was around, no one looked at him twice, just like she said. He enjoyed spending time with Mary-Beth, even if it was only for a few minutes between classes. She was so nice to him, and very pretty too.   
But now she’s gone. After she hit that kid with a ball, she got suspended. How was Kieran going to survive without Mary-Beth’s protection? There was no way he could just suck it up; kids in Blackwater were some of the meanest sons of bitches Kieran’s ever seen, much worse than any other school he’s been to. He didn’t even want to go to school this week, and even tried to fake sick this morning, but his grandmother saw right through him and sent him on his way. As soon as he set foot in the school, his stomach twisted. God, he felt like he was going to throw up. Or shit himself. Maybe both? Were people staring? How many people are staring? Definitely both.  
“Kieran!” Came a voice far off to Kieran’s left. Sitting on the edge of the steps that fan out into the cafeteria stood a few people Kieran recognized as Mary-Beth’s crew. He didn’t remember any of their names, but he knew their faces. They’re safe, right? Kieran comes to the small group with his shoulders slumped as he feels watching eyes peering at him from across the room. The one who called him over is a wiry redhead, smaller than the others. When he speaks again, Kieran notices he’s missing one of his front teeth. “Mary-Beth ain’t here today, you heard, right?”  
“Y-Yeah,” Kieran nods. He feels a presence behind him but is too scared to turn around.  
“She’ll be back in school Wednesday,” The redhead says. “But she’ll be in in-school suspension 'til Monday. She told us to keep an eye on you,” The boy stands and Kieran realizes just how small he is; he only comes up to Kieran’s collarbone. “I’m Sean, I’ll be walkin’ ya ‘round first.”  
“Alright..” Kieran nods slowly.  
“Bill’s gonna walk with us,” Sean gestures behind Kieran.  
Kieran glances over his shoulder and nearly yelps when he sees Bill standing behind him. This guy was Mary-Beth’s brother? How? She’s so small and pretty and this guy… Isn’t. “H-Hi.” He squeaks.  
“Hey,” Bill says gruffly.  
“C’mon, let’s go to your locker,” Sean says. He gestures for Kieran to lead the way and the three start walking. “So,” Sean says. “Mary-Beth must really like you, huh?”  
“I-I guess.” Kieran shrugs, biting his lip. His hands fidget in his pockets as he walks. Or are they shaking? No, he’s fidgeting.  
“Well, she wouldn’t have us watchin’ ya if you were just some boy,” Sean says. “She wouldn’t have hit that kid for just anyone, either.”  
“I don’t think that’s true,” Kieran says. “She wouldn’t do things like that just for me. If she saw a-anyone getting messed with, she’d help them cause she’s a g-good person.”  
“Sure,” Sean chuckles. “Still-” Here Sean throws an arm around Kieran’s neck playfully, causing the boy to lean down a bit to accommodate their height difference. “-We’re a pretty tight-knit group and Mary-Beth knows not to stray too far from that group. We gotta look out for each other, after all. We ain’t got the time to be messin’ with just anyone.”  
“It’s not that serious.” Kieran shrugs the smaller boy off as he reaches his locker and starts gathering his books.  
“To you,” Bill says, leaning against the lockers adjacent to Kieran’s. “But if she really likes you, she’s gonna start spending more time with you, which means less time with us.”  
“Unless she brings you in,” Sean says.  
“In?”  
“Yeah,” Sean says. “If she brings you in with us, she can hang out with you while still hanging out with us, doing what we need her to do.”  
“It’s how we got most of our girls,” Bill snickers. Kieran makes a face and closes his locker, walking towards his first class with the boys flanking him on either side.  
“You know that’s where this is all goin’, right?” Sean says. “You joinin’ our gang?”  
“I don’t wanna join your gang,” Kieran says.  
“I don’t think it’d be a bad idea,” Sean says. “You’re quiet and can probably sneak around real good, people won’t see ya coming.”  
“He ain’t joining the gang,” Bill grumbles as they stop in front of Kieran’s class. “Shut up, Sean.”  
“I’m just saying,” Sean says, slapping Kieran on the back. “He could make a great spy or somethin’.”  
“No thanks.” Kieran shrugs the boy’s hand off his back and heads into the classroom. As he finds his seat, he can still hear Bill and Sean bickering as they walk away.

“Kieran, over here!”  
The voice that stops Kieran on his way out of the cafeteria belongs to Tilly, a girl he had only met once before but she was close friends with Mary-Beth, so Kieran stops his attempted escape. “Hey,” Kieran says as she catches up with him. He rubs the back of his neck and the two step out of the way of the flow of traffic into the lunchroom.  
“Where are you going?” Tilly asks innocently. “We saved you a seat.”  
“Oh, uh, thanks, b-but,” Kieran stammers. “I was going to the library. I got stuff to do.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees other gang members sitting at their table, watching curiously as Tilly tries to coax him back to lunch.  
“Oh, are you sure?” Tilly cocks her head.  
“Yeah.” Kieran nods, taking another step closer to the hallway.  
Tilly notices this. “You’re not scared of them, are you?” She nods discreetly over her shoulder at the others. Kieran doesn’t follow her eyes but he knows who she’s pointing at. “Don’t be. They’re all just trying to rile you up and make you nervous.”  
“Well, it’s working,” Kieran grumbles.  
“Well, how about this?” Tilly says. “You can go up to the library and Karen will meet you up there after class.”  
Kieran doesn’t hesitate to accept the offer, nodding. “Sounds good.” He says quickly.  
“Alright,” Tilly smiles. “See you later, Kieran.”  
Kieran nods again and quickly makes his way away from the noisy lunchroom. He feels relief instead of eyes poking at him.  
The library is nearly empty when he arrives, and he nearly sighs in relief as he sits at an empty table and opens his notebook. In it are sloppily scribbled notes from his last class that he wrote but couldn’t quite understand, but looking back on them only confused him more. Math has never been a strong subject for Kieran, Nothing else has either, in his defense, but math was something everyone frowned at you for if you didn’t understand. Some people think math is easy and Kieran cannot help but envy those people as he stares at the nonsensical concoction of letters and numbers he now stared at. What was the point of learning this stuff? Who used this stuff? It doesn’t help that his math teacher has such a thick foreign accent that half of what he says makes no sense to Kieran, anyway.  
“Duffy, right?”  
Kieran’s blood runs cold at the deep voice that speaks as he suddenly becomes very aware of someone standing over him. He looks up to find it is a teacher, looking over his shoulder at the notebook. It’s a teacher Kieran doesn’t recognize, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah?”  
The man smiles and pulls out the chair across from Kieran, taking a seat uninvited. “I don't believe we met yet. Mr. O’Driscoll.”  
“Okay…?” Kieran glances over his shoulder to make sure no other surprises were waiting for him.  
“Saw you walking with Bill Williamson and Sean MacGuire earlier, thought I’d come see what that was about.”  
Kieran blinks. “What?”  
“Well, it’s just cause them and their buddies like to start trouble, and judging by your mousy little nature, you don’t get in a lot of trouble.”  
“No sir.”  
“So, what’d they want?”  
“Nothing,” Kieran shrugs. “Bill’s sister is friends with me, that’s it.”  
“Oh, Mary-Beth?” O’Driscoll says. The sound of her name on his lips tasted bad in Kieran’s mouth. “Heard she got suspended.”  
“Yeah,” Kieran checks over his shoulder again.  
“So what? Now Bill’s keepin’ an eye on you?”  
Kieran shrugs. “I guess. I dunno, we didn’t talk.”  
“Colm,” A woman’s voice came from the other side of the room, near the door. Both Kieran and Colm turned and Kieran recognized Ms. Grimshaw immediately. When Colm sees her, he stands.  
“Ah, Susan,” Colm says. “I was just talking to Mr. Duffy here about-”  
“I know what you were doing,” Grimshaw snaps, reaching the table. “You can tell Mr. Milton this boy ain’t got nothin’ for him. You can go now.  
Colm shot her a mean glare before shouldering his way past her. As Kieran watches him leave, he feels the cold suddenly leave his body. “Thank you,” He mumbles to Grimshaw.  
“He tries talkin’ to you again, go find Mary-Beth’s friends.” Grimshaw pats his shoulder, They’ll keep an eye on you."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Off to a great start, I hope! Still in the process of moving, but I had enough time to get a small chapter together for you guys! Here's to 2021!

“Hey, everything alright between you and Bill?” John asks. Javier ignores him, passing dishes to his servers and quickly turning back to the grill. “You guys normally sit together in Hosea’s class.”  
“Didn’t know you liked to keep track of that,” Javier grumbles.  
“Just wondering what’s going on.” John holds his hands up. “You two have just been acting really weird since Friday.”  
“Maybe,” Javier shrugs. “Why’s it matter to you?”  
“I dunno, man,” John scoffs. “Cause we’re friends or shit? Forget I brought it up.” He rolls his eyes and turns back to his station.  
It’s been a few days since Bill and Javier last spoke. After Bill stormed back inside, Javier decided to head home, skipping his last class. He texted Bill later but never received a response. He tried to talk to Bill this morning, but he immediately told Sean he wanted to walk with him and the Kieran guy and he ignored Javier completely. Bill even had one of his football buddies take him to school and work today to avoid being near each other.  
Javier regrets telling Bill he’s bi. Not because he thinks Bill is gonna tell anyone, but because he knows Bill isn’t comfortable with that stuff yet. Bill’s gay, to some degree, Javier’s sure of it. But he’s been gaslighted by his father so bad into believing he’s straight that any mention of other sexualities freaks him out. Unfortunately, this counts for his friends as well.  
Last year, Arthur finally told the gang he was bi, everyone knew by then. Javier doesn’t remember when or how he learned it, but he wasn’t surprised by Arthur’s announcement so he had to have already known somehow. Everyone told Arthur that it was okay and that they didn’t care. Well, almost everyone. Micah and Bill freaked out, as well as Davey Callander. They didn't speak to Arthur until everything with Milton boiled over and they needed his help, which he was happy to give. He loved doing stuff for the gang because it meant they still needed him; Arthur likes being needed.  
“Hey Greaser,” Came a voice from behind Javier. He sighs and turns to find Micah standing at the counter, standing in Abigail’s way as she tries to reach her food.  
“Fuck do you want?” Javier growls, nudging Abigail’s tray closer to her.  
“Ain't me, Bill wants you to pick him up after work,” Micah says.  
“Really?” Javier cocks his head. “Why?”  
“I dunno, he just wanted me to tell you that.” Micah shrugs. “His phone’s dead or he’d text you.”  
“Alright,” Javier nods. “I gotta run John and Sean home, I’ll come get him afterwards.”  
“Hey, I need a ride, too-”  
“No,” Javier says. “Walk your ass home.”  
“You guys are a bunch of selfish bastards, you know that?” Micah scoffs.  
“Hey, how close are you to getting your truck out of impound?” John asks, scooting Javier out of the way to hand off more plates to the servers  
“I get paid Thursday,” Micah shrugs. “If I can get ‘bout $100 before then, I’ll have enough to get it out Friday after school.”  
“Fuck me,” Javier snorts.  
“Look, if I wait ‘til my next check I’ll owe more than that, $75 a day or some shit.”  
“Well, none of us have $100 to give you,” Javier says. “Just ask your old man.”  
“I can’t,,” Micah shakes his head.”  
“You can’t tell me he hasn’t noticed your truck is missing yet,” John says.  
“He hasn’t,” Micah says. “He leaves for work after I’m already gone and I get home after he’s off to bed, he doesn’t see my truck at all. That’s why I gotta do this quick; each day that goes by, we’ll eventually find out.”  
“It’s not my problem, Micah,” Javier rolls his eyes. “Go ask Arthur for another ride or something. I ain’t responsible for you.”  
“I don’t get why you’re so mean to me,” Micah growls.  
“Probably cause you called me a greaser when you showed up,” Javier scowls.  
“What the hell’s going on up here?” Pearson emerges from the manager's office. “Why aren’t dishes clearing the pass up here?”  
“Sorry, Pearson,” John says.  
“Sorry,” Javier grumbles. The two turn back to the grill and Micah is shooed off by Sean, who comes around the corner carrying a stack of dishes.

When Javier pulls into the parking lot, he sees Bill sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He watches Javier’s car approach and eventually stands up, brushing himself off.  
“Hey,” Bill says, flicking his cigarette as he gets in the car.  
“Hey,” Javier doesn’t look at him as he gets in, just waits for the sound of the door shutting before he pulls off.  
The radio sits silently between them and Javier wishes he could turn it on without making the awkward silence an awkward non-silence. Should he speak? Was Bill gonna speak? He looks at the radio again.”  
“I’m…” Bill starts. He stops and sighs. He tries to start again. "I’m sorry that I-”  
“It’s forgotten,” Javier blurts, cutting him off. He winces. Was that too quick?  
“Well, no,” Bill says. “It’s not. I shouldn’t have…”  
“Bill, it’s fine, I get it,” Javier says.  
“Still,” Bill groans. He’s got something on the tip of his tongue, a leap of faith he’s not quite ready to make yet, but Javier senses it. He’s dancing around it for now and Javier lets him. “We’re supposed to be taking care of this gang together and we can’t do that if we’re doing this shit.” He pauses, looking out the window before he corrects, “If I’m doing that shit; you ain’t done nothin’ but be honest with me.”  
Javier nods, staring at the road without really looking at it. Bill opens his mouth a few more times without speaking and reaches for another cigarette. Javier wants to speak but doesn’t know where to begin.  
Finally, Bill breaks his silence. “I’m gonna say it.” His voice is soft, withdrawn. Javier’s never heard that tone before. It’s different from the other day, the fear and anger. Now there is just a quiet acceptance.”  
Javier starts. “YOu don’t have to-”  
“I’m gay.” The way it leaves his mouth proves how foreign the sentence is to him; words he’s said hundreds of times but never together.  
Javier nods. He’s not sure what to say, they’re too close to Bill’s house to unpack that into a real conversation.  
Bill nods back. He isn’t satisfied with how he feels about the words now echoing in the silence, bouncing off the stillness of the moment, but the fact is that his chest feels a little less heavy.  
When they pull into the driveway, they both know what should happen next, but they don’t act on that instinct. Instead, Bill looks at Javier for the first time since getting in the car and says, “Same time tomorrow?”  
Javier tries to hide his smile by blowing smoke directly into Bill’s face. “Sure.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone! I'm glad to announce I've moved into my new place and settled in quite nicely. Now I'll be able to update more regularly as I can devote more time to working on various projects, including this one. Hope you guys are doing okay, make sure you're staying safe and taking care of yourselves!

2:04 AM

Javier: Someone give Micah $100, please.

Arthur: He asked you too, huh?

Bill: I don’t see why he can’t tell his dad the truck’s gone. His dad can cover the last 100.

Abigail: I mean, his car’s been missing almost 3 weeks by now. Surely the man has noticed.

Javier: Naw, his old man misses the truck completely when he comes in and out. He has no clue.

Sean: I’mma tell you wut, my da woulda killed me if my truck sat in a lot for half a month.

Bill: He owes like $600 or something, right?

Arthur: Idk, I ain’t keeping track of all that. Someone’s gotta give him the money, tho, I’m tired of driving him everywhere.

Javier: Anyone got 100 bucks?

Eagle Flies: Don’t you all have jobs or something? Each person pitch in like $10, you can pay for his truck.

Javier: Alright, we’ll start with you.

Arthur: They ain’t paying for Micah’s truck.

Bill: Why not? You just want Micah away from your buddies in the first place.

Sean: And why can’t Molly just pay it off? She’s actually got loads of money to spare, the spoiled brat.

Molly: I’m not giving any money to that pig.

Karen: They ain’t even in the gang, Bill, they’re prospects.

Bill: Whatever. I’m just saying. If the Indians are the reason we gotta get this money together, they should be helpin.

2:18 AM

Charles: I may have an idea.

Eagle Flies: Hm?

Charles: My truck.

Eagle Flies: What, pay Micah to fix it?

Charles: Kill several birds with one stone. I get the truck running so my dad leaves me alone, Micah gets his truck so he’ll leave Arthur alone, we pull some of our weight in the gang so Bill leaves us alone, and he has to actually work for the money so we’re not just handing it to him.

Eagle Flies: I guess. But what if your dad sees him? He’s not one to play nice around grown-ups.

Charles: We’ll have Arthur bring him over, keep an eye on him.

Eagle Flies: If you say so. Just remember my dad gets home at 5, he’ll definitely want a conversation with both of them if he sees them.

11:46 AM

Charles: You still need that money?

Micah: Yeah. Why, you got it?

Charles: Get my dad’s truck running and it’s yours.

Micah: Oh yeah? What’s wrong with it?

Charles: Idk

Micah: Gee, thanks.

Charles: You want the money or not?

Micah: Course I want the money. Do you at least got the parts and tools and shit?

Charles: Yeah, in the garage.

Micah: Great, what time should I be over?

Charles: Arthur’s picking you up at 1. You have to be gone by 5.

When Arthur and Micah arrive, Charles and Eagle Flies are both rummaging in the garage, trying to find all of the tools and miscellaneous parts that have accumulated during the truck’s dormancy.

“Hey,” Arthur smiles at Charles when they approach, reaching out to offer help with the large box in his arms. Charles shakes his head with a smirk and carries the box to the truck, setting it down.

“Oh, she’s a beaut,” Micah walks around the truck, running his finger along the dirty paint. “Or she will be, when I’m done.”

“I’ll stay out here with him,” Eagle Flies whispers to Charles. “Take Arthur inside.”

“You sure?” Charles whispers back.

“Yeah,” Eagle Flies nods. “I’ll signal you if someone’s coming.” He turns and the two of them watch Micah start rolling up his sleeves. “Hopefully he won’t talk too much.”

“Thanks,” Charles nods, smiling a bit as he nudges Arthur towards the door. “Thank you for bringing him over,” He says once they’re inside.

“Hey, thanks for having a broke down truck to get Micah out of our hair.” Arthur snorts, shaking his head. He sits in the armchair and Charles sits on the ottoman. The room smells heavily like pipe tobacco, but Arthur doesn’t mention it.

Charles gets out a pack of cigarettes, handing one to Arthur before taking on for himself. “Hopefully he gets the truck done quick.”

“Yeah,” Arthur says. “You worried your old man’s gonna see him?”

“Kinda.”

Arthur nods. When he lights his cigarette, he laughs. “First place I’ve been where we smoke in the living room instead of a backroom or something away from their folks.”

Charles shrugs, chuckling. “Easier to explain why this room smells like smoke than my room.”

“Fair enough,” Arthur nods. He looks around the room. He doesn’t know what he expected Charles’ house to look like, but this wasn’t it. It seems old, like a living room that belongs to a grandpa before he finally agrees to go to a nursing home, but in a half-remembered dream way, like some things could be slightly off. It’s old and strange to put it plainly, not what he expected. “So, with your truck fixed, you gonna start driving me to school?” He teases.

“Gotta get my license first,” Charles snorts. “But yeah, if you want.”

“I was kidding,” Arthur chuckles. “But I may still take you up on that; tired of being the one driving everywhere.”

Charles nods. They sit in silence for a moment, just letting the room fill with smoke. Peeking through the curtains, Charles sees Micah already elbows deep in the truck’s engine, Eagle Flies watching in passive awe as he hands things to Micah. "This truck’s been sitting here for years and it’ll finally be fixed.” He mumbles, mostly to himself.

“Glad we could help,” Arthur smiles. He puts out his cigarette and stands, stretching his arms above his head and groaning before making direct eye contact with a photo on the nearby shelf. Charles watches him but says nothing as he crosses the room and scans the picture. “This you guys?”

“Yeah,” Charles nods.

“Jesus, you’re tiny.” Arthur snorts, staring at the child in the photo.

“I was about 2,” Charles nods, standing and joining him in front of the photograph. He has so many questions about this picture, but his dad doesn’t answer anything. The only thing Charles knows is- “This is the only picture of her I have.”

Arthur nods thoughtfully, observing the woman’s face. He thinks Charles looks like his father but some similarities between him and his mother are indisputable. It’s the eyes mostly, they both have such gentle eyes. “Can I ask?”

“What?”

“What happened?”

“I have no idea,” Charles says. “All I know is, before we came to Little Shenandoah, we were chased off our old land and some of us tried to fight back. I don’t know when or how or why, but around that time was when my mom and Eagle Flies’ older brother went missing.”

“Oh.”

“That’s all anyone really tells us,” Charles gestures outside to Eagle Flies. “They have to know more than that, but no one will tell either of us anything.”

“It’s your family,” Arthur says “You have a right to know to what happened-”

There is a  _ thud _ from the front door and Charles winces. His dad couldn’t be back already, right? “Shit.”

“What?”

“My dad.”

“Oh, shit.” Arthur echos.

The front door opens and Eagle Flies steps in, followed by Rains Fall. Eagle Flies winces as he looks at Charles apologetically. Arthur seems confused for a moment- That’s not the man in the picture on the shelf- before realizing this might be Eagle Flies’ dad. Charles is hiding his relief behind a cocked head, looking questioningly at Rains Fall.

“Hello,” Rains Fall nods towards Arthur. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He eyes Charles.

Charles starts to open his mouth but closes it and shakes his head.

“Good,” Rains Fall turns his attention to Arthur. “Hello, Are you one of Charles’ friends?”

“This is Arthur,” Eagle Flies introduces as Arthur steps forward. “He’s the one who drives us to and from school.”

“Oh,” Rains Fall smiles a bit at that, holding his hand out. “Rains Fall. I’m the chieftain in charge of this reservation.”

“Sir,” Arthur shakes his hand, peeking back at Charles, who is playing with the ends of his hair absently.

“He came over to see who was here,” Eagle Flies says pointedly.

“I would like to know who’s around my son and his friend,” Rains Fall says. “Especially inside the house.” He turns his eyes towards Charles again. “Does your father know you have company over?”

Charles shakes his head. He sees Rains Fall’s eyes flicker towards the family photo on the shelf and visibly winces at Eagle Flies, who winces back.

“You should probably tell him,” Rains Fall says. “You know how he feels about strangers in the house.”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s Charles’s friend.” Eagle Flies mutters.

“You know what I mean, Eagle Flies,” Rains Fall says softly. “And if he’s anything like the boy out there-”

“He’s not,” Eagle Flies says quickly. “That kid’s just…” He shakes his head. “We just needed someone who knew how to fix the truck.”

“I understand that,” Rains Fall nods. “I’m just saying Charles should’ve told his dad people were coming over. Especially if it’s someone’s who has been driving you boys around.” He looks at Charles in a way Charles knows what’s coming and branches for it, his face already heated up. “How did you two meet, Charles?”

Eagle Flies sucks in a sharp breath and Arthur suddenly remembers what Eagle Flies said that night at the park.  _ He just doesn’t talk to anyone. He gets really bad anxiety talking to people, so he usually just lets me talk.  _ He looks at Charles as he opens his mouth to talk a few times and closes it, breathes, opens his mouth again. Charles’ chest tightens and he looks towards his feet helplessly.

Rains Fall sighs heavily and turns to Arthur. “How did you two meet?” He says. Eagle Flies winces.  _ Shit _ .

“Oh,” Arthur notices Eagle Flies’ wince and thinks fast. “I got assigned to be their transitional ambassador.” He says. “Since they’ve never been in public school, I was chosen to help them settle in.”

“Oh, wow,” Rains Fall smiles. “I didn’t think Blackwater would have something like that.”

“I didn’t think so either,” Arthur chuckles sheepishly, glancing at Eagle Flies. He seems a bit less panicked, so Arthur must’ve done something right.

“Are you done interrogating the man now?” Eagle Flies asks his dad.

“I’m not interrogating, Eagle Flies,” Rains Fall turns to his son and the two walk out. “I just wanted to know who you guys invited over...”

Their voices fade as the front door shuts behind them and Arthur sees Charles visibly relax at his side. “I’m sorry!” Charles blurts.

“Hey it’s all good,” Arthur nods. “Trust me, not the worst thing to happen when meeting someone’s family.”

Charles rubs the back of his neck and nods. What was Rains Fall gonna tell his dad? There were two strange boys here? Did Micah say something rude? He commented on Micah by saying if Arthur was ‘anything like that other boy’. Did he believe that lie Arthur told? Does he remember the original lie Eagle Flies told him?

“You’re doing it again,” Arthur chuckles.

“What?”

“You’re thinking a bunch of stuff at once and you’re getting all anxious ‘bout it.” Arthur chuckles. “Relax, everything’s gonna be alright.”

Charles nods, smiling half-heartedly. Maybe Arthur’s right, it’ll all be okay.” Even if it’s not, he knows Arthur has his back.


	19. Chapter 19

Micah: Got my truck back! (Liked by everyone)

“Saw Colm bugging some freshman,” Grimshaw says to Hosea. This time, instead of smoking outside, the two are in Grimshaw’s classroom, a room that’s got desks in the front half and a kitchen in the back. The room was still empty, but it wouldn’t be soon. She had to give him the information now before everyone flooded in here. “Some boy that hangs out with Mary-Beth.”  
“I’ve seen him around,” Hosea nods. “What’s Colm want with him?”  
“He thinks he’s a new prospect,” Grimshaw says. “He wants to report back to Milton.”  
“Is he a prospect?”  
“The boy is scared shitless of everyone in that gang, Hosea, he ain’t no prospect.”  
“Then what are you so concerned about?” Hosea asks.  
“If Colm is finding and cornering kids he thinks are prospects, he’s eventually gonna find someone who’s actually in the gang and they may squeal,” Grimshaw says.  
“Are you suggesting, Susan, we help the Callender gang?” Hosea raises an eyebrow.  
“I’m suggesting we keep an eye on Collm cause he’s a little snake.”  
The door opens and the two turn to see who enters. It’s Abigail, of course it is, and Tilly right behind her. The two give a courteous wave and race to the kitchen. The clattering of dishes signals the two will be here for some time.  
Grimshaw gently pats Hosea’s arm. “Just look out, alright?”  
“Yeah,” Hosea nods. He nods towards the girls politely before leaving the room. Once in the hallway, he nearly collides with a familiar face and the mesmerizing scent of a familiar cologne.  
“Hosea!” Dutch grins, reaching out to stabilize the man. “Good morning.”  
“M-Mornin’, Dutch.” Hosea smiles, feeling his face heat up.  
“I was just comin’ to look for you,” Dutch says. “You got a minute?”  
“Uh… Yeah.” Hosea nods. “Sure.” He follows Dutch back down the hall to the English classroom. Over the past few weeks, Dutch has personalized his classroom with posters based on the books they’re going to go over this year and other various materials. The thing that catches Hosea’s eye first is a small mural propped up on top of the bookshelf. The picture depicts a scene Hosea is familiar with; it’s Blackwater when it was just some little oasis in a lawless era. Dusty cobblestone streets and horse-drawn carriages were the only things worthy of seeing in this town at some point, and the fact it grew past that blows Hosea’s mind. He remembers how different Blackwater was as far back as the 80s when he first came here to teach. How different will it be in just a few more years?  
“You like it?” Dutch pulls Hosea’s attention away for just a moment. “It’s Blackwater.”  
“I know,” Hosea nods, walking back to Dutch’s desk and sitting on it. “Some of the kids believe I came to Blackwater when it looked like that.”  
Dutch chuckles. “I wouldn’t dare call you that old, Hosea,” He says. When he sees Hosea’s smile, he returns the expression; something about that smile is so contagious. “Although, I do love the silver fox look you have.”  
“Oh, stop it,” Hosea chuckles, swatting at the man gently. He feels his face flushing and internally scolds himself for acting like a schoolboy, blushing and giggling away at compliments given to him by a man far out of his league. Such a handsome man… Hosea, focus.  
“I had some questions for you about the Callander kids,” Dutch says.  
“Oh, okay,” Hosea nods, folding his hands across his lap. Apparently, today was going to be an active day for gossip about the Callander gang. Not that he minded- As much trouble as they could be, he had to admit they were some of his favorite students- he was worried why all this gossip was suddenly surfacing, “What’s going on?”  
“Williamson,” Dutch says.  
“Ah,” Hosea cuts him off. “Senior thesis troubles?”  
“Exactly,” Dutch says. “He’s avoiding me, he knows I want to talk to him about it.”  
“Bill is a simple man,” Hosea chuckles. “First he’ll just voice a distaste for anything he doesn’t want to do- in this case, presentations- but he eventually just begins ignoring the problem altogether. If you try to push him further after that, he’ll start skipping class. So that’s something to look out for.”  
“He won’t come to my room anymore if I send someone to go get him,” Dutch says. “And if I try to talk to him during or after class, his friends try to distract me so he can get away.”  
“Yep,” Hosea says. “That’s Bill for you. Cornwall was nearly tearing his hair out fighting with Bill last year.”  
“I just want him to put some kind of effort into it,” Dutch says. “Pick a topic, at least.”  
“Good luck with that,” Hosea laughs. “Bill knows if he even shows interest in this assignment he’s done for. He picks a topic and it eventually leads down the path that ends in him presenting it.”  
“I mean, I understand why he doesn’t want to give a speech,” Dutch says. “The fact he’s so adamantly avoiding it shows how many people have pushed him for this.”  
“We got his parents involved freshman year, when we first started having a problem with him,” Hosea snorts, visibly rolling his eyes as the memory. “That man…” He huffs and shakes his head.”  
“His father?” Dutch asks.  
“Who’s father?”  
Hosea’s face screws up at the sound of Colm’s voice. “Williamson,” He says through gritted teeth.  
“Eh, he’s an alright guy,” Colm laughs. “Man’s got a mouth on him for sure, no wonder where Bill learned all those words he loves.”  
“Colm, this conversation didn’t involve you,” Hosea growls as Colm sits next to Dutch. Hosea changes seats to the second row of student desks.  
“Why were you talking ‘bout Williamson’s old man?” Colm ignores Hosea, only turning to face Dutch, who looks between the two. “Oh, was it the senior thesis? He still actin’ up over that?”  
“Colm,” Hosea says. “Why don’t you go to the library? Find some more freshmen to harass?”  
“Why would…?” Colm’s eyebrows furrow until Hosea could almost literally hear a light bulb in the man’s head. “Oh, is that a little jab for that Duffy boy? I was just checking on him, he’s spendin’ a lot of time with that gang now.”  
“He’s friends with Mary-Beth, nothing more,” Hosea says.  
“Are we talking about Kieran?” Dutch cocks his head.  
“Yeah,” Hosea nods.  
“I have him in one of my classes,” Dutch snorts. “That boy couldn’t hurt anyone if he wanted to, I highly doubt he’s tangled up with those guys.”  
“Exactly,” Hosea says. “So leave him out of it.”  
“Why you worryin’ about it, Hosea?” Colm chuckles. “Thought we were all on the same page that the Callander gang ends this year? If they can’t recruit prospects, they’ve got no next generation.”  
“First off,” Hosea says. “You are not helping anyone take the Callanders down a peg, you’re working on your own accord for Milton. Second, bothering innocent kids ain’t helpin’ no one, you’re just making everyone nervous.”  
“Okay,” Colm rolls his eyes. “We gotta start looking somewhere, Hosea. It’s September, they’ll have their kids before October, I promise you.”  
“How are you deciding who’s a prospect?” Hosea asks. “Because, by your logic, any freshman caught with the gang is guilty. Why not talk to Miss Gaskill? Or Mr. Summers?” He passively folds his hands and Dutch sees a fire in his eyes; he’s pissed. There’s no denying that Colm is the cause of most of his frustrations. “Who’s to say it’s only freshman they’re looking at, those two Indian boys are friends with Arthur, maybe they’re gonna be the prospects this year.”  
“And who’s gonna talk to all those kids?” Colm says.  
“No one,” Hosea says. “You are not going to run around this school looking for Callander associates like this is a goddamn witch hunt-” Hosea cuts himself off after the swear, taking a deep breath and holding his folded hands up to his face as if in prayer. Dutch and Colm both watch with raised eyebrows- Colm in amusement and Dutch in concern. When Hosea exhales deeply through his nose and stands up, Dutch can see the fire still burning in his eyes. “We’ll talk later Dutch, okay?”  
“Of course,” Dutch says as Hosea quickly takes his leave. Before Colm can open his mouth, Dutch says, “If you’ll excuse me Colm.” And gestures to the door. When Colm stares at him dumbly, Dutch repeats, “Colm.”  
“Of course,” Colm seems to almost laugh at the man’s change in demeanor. When he stands to leave, Colm catches a glimpse of a photo on Dutch’s desk. “You’re wife?” He asks.  
“Yeah,” Dutch says. “She was, at least. She’s… Gone now.”  
“Shame, she’s gorgeous,” Colm says. “Mind if I ask?”  
“I do, actually,” Dutch says, walking to the door and gesturing for Colm to leave for the third time. “Get out.”  
“Oh, are we done being polite now?” Colm snorts as he finally gets the message and steps into the hallway.  
“I don’t know why, but no other teacher in this building seems to like you, Colm,” Dutch says. “I’m taking that as a sign.”  
“Fair enough,” Colm says calmly, nodding at Dutch. “Don’t worry, Dutch, when you realize you and me are on the same side-”  
The door shut in his face before he could even finish.

7:18 AM  
Lenny: I got somethin’. Couple somethin’s maybe.  
Arthur: Hm?  
Lenny: Should we call an emergency meeting? I don’t think this should wait too long.  
Bill: Meet up where?  
Javier: Think all of you can sneak out to the practice barn? They ain’t having gym out there, are they?  
Arthur: Sounds good. Girls, don’t worry about trying to sneak out, leave this to us. Rest of you, see you there.  
Lenny: Bill, grab Kieran.  
Bill: What, why?  
Lenny: Just do it.  
Bill: You’re a freshman, you grab him.  
Sean: For fuck sake, I’ll grab the little bastard.

When the homeroom period starts, the group waits until attendance is taken and morning announcements are done to make their move. The girls stay put, let the boys have their little meeting; too many people leaving at once would cause a problem anyways.  
Arthur and John wait near the doors for Charles and Eagle Flies to show up, leaving with their respective classmate when they arrive.  
“It’s pretty concerning we can just go anywhere on school grounds and not really be caught, huh?” Eagle Flies jokes as the group meets up with Javier and Bill, trying to break the lock on the practice barn open.  
“I guess,” John says. “Works for us, though.”  
“I’ve almost got it,” Bill mutters.  
“Sure,” Javier smirks.  
“Hey, shut the hell up,” Bill scoffs. There is a harsh metallic scrape that causes everyone to wince, and the door is open, just as Lenny arrives, Sean and Kieran in tow.  
“Wh-What’s going on?” Kieran demands as everyone disappears inside.  
The practice barn is carpeted by astroturf and well insulated. One half of the room is full of new weight lifting equipment while the other side is old equipment from previous sports seasons for the gym classes to use. Whiteboards litter one wall, each one covered in sketches of football plays. The group enters the barn and begins finding seats on the astroturf.  
“Where’s Micah?” Arthur asks.  
“He said he’d be here,” John says. “I dunno, he was right behind me.”  
“Well, great,” Javier says.  
“It’s fine, we don’t need him,” Lenny says.  
“What’s this about, boy?” Bill says. “Why’ve you got him?” He points to Kieran, trying to shrink behind Sean.  
“Prospect vote,” Lenny says.  
“No,” Bill says quickly.  
“No, listen,” Lenny says. “I overheard a bunch of teachers talking, O’Driscoll is trying to track down prospects. Since we’ve been around Kieran a bunch recently, he cornered Kieran and found out he was clean.”  
“Was you going to tell us O’Driscoll talked to you?” Bill accuses Kieran, who yelps when Bill grabs him and yanks him to the center of the group.  
“Bill,” Lenny quickly puts himself between Kieran and Bill. “Will you listen before you jump on the kid? O’Driscoll already spoke to him, spooked him, other teachers know this and they also know he came up empty.”  
“Making him prospect will make him untouchable by O’Driscoll,” Arthur realizes, “Cause if the teachers see him messing with Kieran again they’ll chase him off.”  
“Exactly,” Lenny says. “He’s already easy to miss ‘cause he’s so small and… Nondescript, let’s say, but that extra protection- by Grimshaw and Hosea, no less-”  
“They saw O’Driscoll talking to Kieran?” Bill asks.  
“Grimshaw did. Tilly overheard her telling Hosea, then I overheard Hpsea and O’Driscoll getting into it in Dutch’s room before first period.” Lenny says.  
“Abigail mentioned that, too,” John says. “I was gonna bring that up at lunch.”  
“W-Wait!” Kieran yelps, as if finally finding his voice. “You guys j-just made jokes this w-week about me joining, saying it was ridiculous, now you’re serious? I-I don’t get a say in this?”  
“Normally, yes,” Lenny says. “But, as I said, you could be a really good asset since you’re invincible right now.”  
“Wh-What do you even need me to do?” Kieran asks.  
“Well, we don’t know what specifically yet,” Arthur says. “But the overall thing we’re doing is getting rid of Milton.”  
“Yeah, see, I don’t wanna d-do that!” Kieran says. “I don’t have a problem with Mr. Milton like y’all do!”  
“Yeah, you do,” Lenny says. “Maybe not right this second, but you will.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, you get bullied. Messed with real bad,” Lenny says. “We all hear what kids say about you in the halls.”  
“We remember you getting your ass kicked the first day,” Javier says.  
“Milton will choose them over you every time,” Lenny says. “You’re gonna try to get courageous at some point, fight back when you’ve had enough. You’ll be lucky to finish high school if Milton has anything to say about it.”  
“But if you join us,” Sean tempts. “Not only will kids not mess with you, but you’ll have all of us in your corner, should you ever face off with Milton.”  
“The point is,” Arthur says, placing a hand on Kieran’s shoulder. “You’re one of us from here on out, and you’ll learn to like it.”  
“What? Okay…” Kieran sighs. He hates this. Once again decisions are being made for him, and now all these scary people ‘own’ him.  
“We ain’t even voting on it?” Bill smacks his lips. “We vote on prospects, Arthur!”  
“Vote then!” Arthur scoffs. “I know you and Micah don’t want the kid, Molly already said we don’t need prospects. The girls are all gonna say yes ‘cause of Mary-Beth.” He turns to the others. “Any of you have a problem finding some use for him?” After a bit of silent glancing, Arthur says, “That’s majority, Bill.”  
“This is ridiculous!” Bill groans. “Why aren’t prospects unamorous?”  
“Unanimous,” Lenny corrects.  
“Yeah? Whatever.” BIll grunts.  
“Cause fuck ya, that’s why.” Sean snorts, patting Kieran on the back roughly. “Give us your number, kid, we’ll add you to our gang chat.”  
Kieran blinks. “Oh, uh… Yyyyeah..” He makes a face.  
“What?” Arthur cocks his head. “You don’t have a phone?”  
“No,” Kieran shakes his head.  
“Of course,” Sean laughs incredulously. “Well, shit, we’ll figure something out.”  
“Sorry,” Kieran says, huffing.  
“Don’t be, ain’t your fault,” Arthur says, patting his head. “Now that all that’s settled, Lenny, you got anything else?”  
“Yeah,” Lenny says. “Hosea’s in a bad mood today, might be able to get some information out of him.”  
“What do we need?” Arthur asks.  
“What him and Dutch were talking about before O’Driscoll came and messed everything up,” Lenny shrugs. “I dunno, what do we need?”  
“We’ll find something to talk about,” Arthur nods. He pats Kieran’s back. “We’ll see you around, kid; we’ll probably ‘mess with you’, make the teachers think we’re just fucking with you while Mary-Beth is gone.”  
“Okay…” Keiran feels like spitting at the group for making him do stuff he doesn’t want to do, but the mention of Mary-Beth reminds him why he’s in this mess in the first place. She wanted to protect him, now he’ll always be protected, he supposes.


	20. Chapter 20

The rest of the morning passes smoothly. Arthur passes the news of the new prospect to the girls- Tilly texts Mary-Beth and she is ecstatic- and they fill Micah in during 3rd period. Micah claims he missed the meeting because he got stopped by a teacher, but no one really seems to believe that. He sticks to the story, though, and the matter is finally dropped around lunch.

When 6th period rolls around, the seniors file into Dutch’s classroom; the man is sitting at his desk reading like every other day. What’s not like every other day, though, is the desks being pushed into clusters of 2 or 3 with small laminated name tags on them. Arthur quickly spots his name tag seated next to Charles and Sadie, dragging Charles to the spot and sitting down. Javier groans at the sight of having Jake’s name at his table, and Bill sighs dramatically when he finds himself seated next to Molly.

“Trade me seats,” Javier whispers to Sadie while Dutch is still reading, his attention nowhere near the class.

“You think he doesn’t remember where he put our tags?” Arthur chuckles. “Stay put, he knows exactly where he put us. It’s part of his plan.”

“You know, I haven’t bugged you in a while, you got no reason to not like me,” Jake jokes.

“Your face bugs me,” Javier growls.

“This better not be part of a team assignment,” Molly grumbles. “I’d rather stab myself than depend on you for a grade,” She spits at Bill.

“I won’t be that excited to work with you either, princess,” Bill spits back.

The bell rings and Dutch waits about another minute before closing his book and rising from his seat, closing the door. “Good afternoon, everyone,” Dutch says, sitting on his desk. "How is everyone’s day so far?” A crowd of grumbles does not sway the man’s smiley mood. “Great!”

“Why are our desks moved around?” Javier asks.

“Not happy with your partner, Mr. Escuella?”

“Lose your dang smile, you’re doing this to us on purpose!” Bill snaps.

“You’re right, I am,” Dutch nods. “The book we’re starting for this quarter focuses on the theme of teamwork. In this book, you’ll find the ongoing dilemma between everyone’s greater good and personal gain to be the primary storyline. Can anyone tell me what the biggest part of teamwork is?” The class gets quiet, glancing at each other. “Well that’s not a good sign,” He snorts after long enough.

“Is it a trick question?” Jake asks.

“Do you think it’s a trick question?” Dutch chuckles.

“I think it’s people,” Jake says. “The biggest part of teamwork is the team.”

“You’re close,” Dutch says. “What about the people?” When he sees Jake’s puzzled face, Dutch prompts, “Just any people, random people?” More silence. “If you and Javier here were in a life-or-death situation, do you think Javier would help you survive?”

“No, sir,” Jake says. Javier nods beside him. “He doesn’t like me.”

“And his dislike for you,” Dutch says, motioning for Jake to continue. “Does that make you feel anything about Javier?”

“I…” Jake pauses and thinks for a moment as Dutch tries to press for an answer. He shakes his head.

“Arthur,” Dutch turns his attention to the other side of the room. “Why do you think Mr. Smith only seems to talk to you and Eagle Flies? Why he gets that little deer-in-the-headlights look when he tries to speak to someone else?”

"Um..." Arthur starts.

"What makes you special to Charles?" Dutch rephrases.

Arthur looks at Charles for a few seconds before saying, “We trust each other?”

“Ah,” Dutch beams, nodding. “Trust. Exactly, thank you, Mr. Morgan.” He looks to the others. “If a community cannot trust each other, how can they ensure everyone’s growth and quality of life?” He looks around at the quiet faces again and sighs. “Who’s ready for today’s assignment?"

“This isn’t about to be some kind of ‘trust fall' bull, is it?” Bill asks.

“He wouldn’t have given you Molly as a partner if we were doing that,” Javier snorts. “Your fat ass will crush her.”

A couple kids start laughing, but before Bill can lash out, Dutch intervenes. “I’m handing out envelopes that have a question or prompt. Everyone has something different written down, and you guys are going to have to trust each other. If your whole group can confirm you each answered your question- honestly- or completed your prompts, you will all get the points. But if even one of you refuses to answer the questions or do the prompts, the whole table will get zero points for today.”

“Don’t you dare fuck this up,” Molly growls under her breath at Bill as Dutch begins passing out the envelope, everyone’s names written on their own.

“No one open your envelopes yet,” Dutch says. When everyone gets their assignments, Dutch returns to his desk. “Alright, go on.”

Shuffling papers and mumbling fill the room. Arthur unfolds his paper and reads ‘Show your partners the first drawing in your current journal; tell them the significance of the drawing’. _ Easy _ , Arthur thought to himself.

“What’s yours say?” Sadie leans over to check Charles’ paper. “ ‘ _ Tell _ a student from another group your favorite color and why’ ?”

“Shit,” Arthur snorts, leaning over to read it. Sure enough, Dutch has the word 'tell' underlined a few times. “What’s yours say?” He asks Sadie.

“Mine says…” Sadie pulls hers out to read it and scrunches up her face. “...Not to let you two see it.”

“Oh?” Arthur raises an eyebrow. “That’s all it says?”

“No, it says other stuff, but it says not to tell you what it is.”

“This is a trust exercise?” Arthur turns and asks Dutch.

“Yep.”

Arthur and Charles share a look and look back at Sadie, shoving her paper back into the envelope. “What’s yours say?” Sadie asks Arthur.

“To show you guys the first picture in this journal,” Arthur says, pulling it out and opening it to the first page. He hasn’t had this journal as long as some of the others, so luckily it isn’t full of anything too embarrassing. This picture was never finished, as Arthur was never good at drawing people, but the rusted train tracks he drew were in such fine detail the pathetic sketches of figures- one of the tracks and one more on either side of the tracks- looked like mere shadows in the distance.

“Wow,” Sadie says, taking the journal and looking at the picture more. “This is really good. The detail…” She gently touches the paper, tracing the tracks.

“I ain’t too good at drawin’ people, mostly,” Arthur says as Charles leans over to see the drawing for himself. His eyes widen a bit and Arthur can see a small smile tease at the corner of his mouth. “But it felt right at the time, so I gave it a shot.”

“Are they anyone specific?” Sadie asks. “Or just people in general?”

“It’s some friends of ours,” Arthur says, gesturing to Javier and Bill at their respective tables. “Remember the first few days of school, all that gang shit Dutch was talkin' about?” Sadie nods. “They were the people in charge before us.”

“Callanders,” Sadie remembers.

“Yep,” Arthur says, gesturing to the two figures beside the train tracks. “Davey and Mac, Callander brothers, This one’s Jenny, she was their partner in crime.” He smiles fondly. “This picture was from the day they told us we were gonna be in charge once they were gone.” He remembers the day; they went to the junkyard for a part for Mac’s motorcycle and they found rusty abandoned tracks at the back of the lot while they were wandering around. Jenny later came back with Tilly and her camera and it was that spot Jenny took her senior portraits. Something about nature reclaiming the tracks made the spot resonate with Jenny. The pictures didn’t look bad, either; you couldn’t tell they were taken in a junkyard.

“Cool,” Sadie smiles a bit. She looks at Charles, still reading his paper. “You gonna be okay?”

Charles nods absently, opening his mouth and quickly closing it. He feels his face start heating up and sighs loudly, finding a nervous chuckle bubbling its way out of his chest before he can stop it.

“Yeah, me too,” Arthur snorts at the noise Charles made. “Here we go, go tell Javier. You’ve already spoken to him before right?”

Charles makes a face and waves his hand in a ‘so-so’ motion.

“Just go tell him,” Arthur says. “Take your time and don’t freak yourself out.” He pats Charles’ back. “You got this.”

Charles winces and shakes his head but gets up anyway. He feels Dutch’s eyes on him as he crosses the room to Javier's side. Javier, who balled up his own paper, sits silently as Jake pouts. Charles sets his own paper in front of Javier and crouches next to him to keep Dutch’s eyes off him.

Javier looks the paper over and turns to Dutch. “That’s fucked up, trying to make the mute kid talk.”

“No one is forcing him to do this,” Dutch says. “You weren’t forced to do yours, Bill and Molly over there both said they’re not doing it, no one is forcing him to talk.”

“Wait, Molly, you ain’t even doing yours?” Arthur looks at Molly, whose paper is torn into pieces in front of her. Bill has also ripped his up, the scraps in neat piles in front of each other.

“No, because the question was too personal and no one’s business!” Molly snaps. She and Bill are both red-faced, although it’s not clear whether it’s out of rage or embarrassment.

“Bill?” Dutch asks. “Why did you decide not to do yours either?”

“Like she said, it’s something she ain’t got no business knowing,” Bill mutters.

“If you say so,” Dutch chuckles. “You’ll both get zeros today. Javier and Jake, you too.”

“C’mon man,” Jake whines. “It was such a dumb question to get mad over.”

“What was it?” Sadie asks.

“Favorite animal,” Jake snorts.

“You can’t answer that?” Arthur laughs.

“I don’t have a favorite animal,” Javier rolls his eyes. “I ain't a fuckin kid.”

“Having a favorite animal don't make you a kid,” Arthur snorts.

“What’s your favorite animal then, smart ass?” Javier snaps.

“Deer,” Arthur says.

“Seriously?” Bill blinks. “Deer?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says. “They just look so nice, I like when I see them standing out in my yard in the morning.” He shrugs. “Bill, what’s yours?”

“Either dogs or snakes,” Bill says. “But the big snakes like in rainforests and shit.”

“Mine’s frogs!” Jake says.

“No one asked,” Javier rolls his eyes.

“I like sloths,” Charles mumbles. It’s quiet, but most of the kids talking to Dutch hear it; Arthur gasps as Dutch begins grinning wide. Charles’ face gets hot as kids start mumbling to each other. Charles almost seems frozen in place, eyes wide and a slight shake to his hands.

“Javier?” Arthur says in an attempt to get the attention off of Charles. “Anything?”

“I guess wolves are cool,” Javier shrugs.

“Too mainstream,” Dutch shakes his head. “Most people say something like wolves because they think it makes them cool. Give me an animal you know way too many fun facts about. Something you had a hundred toys of as a kid. Something you always wanted to see at the zoo.”

“I mean, I guess, if you're asking for animals we liked as a kid…” Javier glances at Jake and sighs. “Frogs.”

“I like frogs!” Jake grins.

“We remember,” Bill snorts.

“So you too have something in common,” Dutch says, amused that his plan actually seemed to be working. “Somethin’ to talk about.”

“I ain’t just gonna sit here and talk to him about frogs,” Javier rolls his eyes.

“Then find more things in common,” Dutch says. “You two play any sports?”

“I used to play baseball at my old school,” Jake says.

“So did Javier,” Arthur says.

“Seriously?” Jake grins widely as Javier pouts and nods.

“Favorite color on three: One, two three-” Dutch says.

“Blue,” Javier says.

“Green,” Jake says.

“Damn,” Dutch snorts. “Thought that’d get you guys.”

“I thought your favorite color was black,” Bill says to Javier. “That’s why your car’s black.”

“Well, my favorite is blue now,” Javier grunts.

“What about hobbies?” Dutch says. “What do you two do outside of school?”

“I mainly just watch tv,” Jake says. “Work out sometimes.”

“I hang out with my friends,” Javier says. “And work.”

“Play any instruments?” Dutch asks.

“I play bass,” Jake says. “Trying to learn guitar.”

“Javier plays guitar,” Bill says.

“Oh yeah?” Jake grins in Javier’s direction.

Dutch glances back at the clock on the wall behind him and lets out a surprised chuckle. “You two can carry this on later. Bill, Molly, last chance for the points.” He says, tapping his desk rhythmically.

“Go fuck yerself,” Bill huffs.

“Alright, Bill and Molly get zeros, everyone else got the points.

“Charles didn’t even answer his question,” Javier says. The bell rings and kids start filing out of the room. On the way out, Bill takes his pile of scrapped paper and tosses it at Dutch like mangled confetti. Dutch makes no comment, instead focusing on Javier.

“That’s fine,” Dutch says. “I think he still made some progress today.”


End file.
